Midnight on the Prato-Fiorito.
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Upon the sea of Heaven above us spreadThe stars, like golden barks,—their wondrous taleStill sung, as on their heavenly mission sped—They beamed on mountains, glisten'd on the vale.
Great Jove with "Medicean stars" in train,With golden shield, and arrows tipped for flight,Transfixed the night to mocking day, and fainStartled the darkness into laughs of light.
"And dark Orion turning the shadow of death"Into the pearly colours of the morning,And lo! the seven stars of Pleiad's wreathScatter'd her blossoms, all our way adorning.
Through the midnight we wandered till grey mornOpened the orient gates,—and feeble and faintCame the soft breathings of a day new born—Breezes Auroral, like prayers of a Saint.
The clouds on the far mountain tops away,Like billows broke in the warm day-light's glow,A sea fantastic, scattering silver spray,To fall in cool drops to the glades below.
