FRUIT OF OLD.
25
Alternate colours flit in rapid chase,
Denouncing rain, if violet prevail,
A fiery red denotes the eastern gale.
But if red fire is blotch'd with streaks of black,
In storm and rain the welkin shall go wrack. 526
That night let no one bid me tempt the main,
Or dare to cast adrift my mooring chain.
But if the sun, with lucid orb and ray,
Awake in turn, and lull to rest the day, 530
No clouds shalt thou regard, but mark the trees
A-rustling in the bright north-eastern breeze.
In short, whate'er the deepening twilight brings,
The clouds that calmly float on airy wings,
What means the damp south wind the sun shall spy, 535
And who shall dare to give the sun the lie?
Nay, oft he warns that treason is not far,
The black cabal, the heave of smother'd war.
When Cæsar's light was quench'd in sudden fate,
The sun with pity view'd the Roman state, 540
With steel-blue haze he mask'd his forehead bright,
And godless ages fear'd eternal night.
Denouncing rain, if violet prevail,
A fiery red denotes the eastern gale.
But if red fire is blotch'd with streaks of black,
In storm and rain the welkin shall go wrack. 526
That night let no one bid me tempt the main,
Or dare to cast adrift my mooring chain.
But if the sun, with lucid orb and ray,
Awake in turn, and lull to rest the day, 530
No clouds shalt thou regard, but mark the trees
A-rustling in the bright north-eastern breeze.
In short, whate'er the deepening twilight brings,
The clouds that calmly float on airy wings,
What means the damp south wind the sun shall spy, 535
And who shall dare to give the sun the lie?
Nay, oft he warns that treason is not far,
The black cabal, the heave of smother'd war.
When Cæsar's light was quench'd in sudden fate,
The sun with pity view'd the Roman state, 540
With steel-blue haze he mask'd his forehead bright,
And godless ages fear'd eternal night.
