| Alfred H. Miles, ed. The Sacred Poets of the Nineteenth Century. 1907. | | | Sonnets. V. Imagination | | By James Drummond Burns (18231864) |
| | | NOT seldom will the sun, when westering slow, | |
| Turn his bright eye upon a fronting train | |
| Of clouds, and from the mists and falling rain | |
| Weave suddenly his broad and gorgeous bow. | |
| The stainless air puts on a purple glow, | 5 |
| The beauteous secresies of light are plain, | |
| And from these stripes the swimming vapours gain | |
| More splendour than the orient skies can show. | |
| Such is Imagination, and the power | |
| Which peoples nature with its glorious dreams, | 10 |
| Which sprinkles everywhere its golden shower, | |
| And to the fine-eyed poet, in what seems | |
| His vacant but his visionary hour, | |
| Tints every cloud with mild auroral gleams. | | | | |
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