I saw the ruddy sunshine growing wild,
I saw his smiling visage disappear,
the sky, once filled with luminance so mild
becoming dark with shadowings of fear.
The southern wind with angry violence blows
Olympus, perched on Atlas' shoulders' height
who quavers as the tempest's fury grows
and fills the air with thunder in his fright.
But, see! I saw the veil of darkness break
within the morning's rainwater dissolving,
and see! I saw the daybreak's glory take
its former ground, back to its heights resolving;
and to the sky I wondered, "Who can say
if such a change as this lies in my way?"