Page:The year's at the spring.djvu/98

 THE • YEAR'S • AT • THE • SPRING

OMBRE and rich, the skies;

Great glooms, and starry plains.

Gently the night wind sighs;

Else a vast silence reigns.

The splendid silence clings

Around me: and around

The saddest of all kings

Crowned, and again discrowned.

Comely and calm, he rides

Hard by his own Whitehall:

Only the night wind glides:

No crowds, nor rebels, brawl.

Gone, too, his Court; and yet,

The stars his courtiers are:

Stars in their stations set;

And every wandering star.

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