earth has not any thing to show more fair:
dull would he be of soul who could pass by
a sight so touching in its majesty:
this city now doth, like a garment, wear
the beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
open unto the fields, and to the sky;
all bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
never did sun more beautifully steep
in his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
ne'er saw i, never felt, a calm so deep!
the river glideth at his own sweet will:
dear god! the very houses seem asleep;
and all that mighty heart is lying still!