4.01.2022

still they roll along Immeasurably distant

                            The sky is overspread 
With a close veil of one continuous cloud 
All whitened by the moon, that just appears, 
A dim-seen orb, yet chequers not the ground 
With any shadow—plant, or tower, or tree. 
At last a pleasant instantaneous light 
Startles the musing man whose eyes are bent 
To earth. He looks around, the clouds are split 
Asunder, and above his head he views 
The clear moon and the glory of the heavens. 
There in a black-blue vault she sails along 
Followed by multitudes of stars, that small, 
And bright, and sharp along the gloomy vault 
Drive as she drives. How fast they wheel away! 
Yet vanish not! The wind is in the trees; 
But they are silent. Still they roll along 
Immeasurably distant, and the vault 
Built round by those white clouds, enormous clouds, 
Still deepens its interminable depth. 
At length the vision closes, and the mind 
Not undisturbed by the deep joy it feels, 
Which slowly settles into peaceful calm, 
Is left to muse upon the solemn scene. 
 
[William Wordsworth {1770-1850} 'A Night-Piece', from Selected Poems]

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