Verse > Anthologies > Ralph Waldo Emerson, ed. > Parnassus: An Anthology of Poetry
Ralph Waldo Emerson, comp. (1803–1882).  Parnassus: An Anthology of Poetry.  1880.
By Lord Byron (1788–1824)
  THE MOON is up, and yet it is not night:
  Sunset divides the sky with her; a sea
  Of glory streams along the Alpine height
  Of blue Friuli’s mountains; heaven is free
  From clouds, but of all colors seems to be        5
  Melted to one vast Iris of the west,
  Where the day joins the past eternity;
  While, on the other hand, meek Dian’s crest
Floats through the azure air, an island of the blest.
  A single star is at her side, and reigns        10
  With her o’er half the lovely heaven; but still
  Yon sunny sea heaves brightly, and remains
  Rolled o’er the peak of the far Rhœtian hill,
  As day and night contending were until
  Nature reclaimed her order: gently flows        15
  The deep-dyed Brenta, where their hues instil
  The odorous purple of a new-born rose,
Which streams upon her stream, and glassed within it glows.
  Filled with the face of heaven, which, from afar,
  Comes down upon the waters; all its hues,        20
  From the rich sunset to the rising star,
  Their magical variety diffuse:
  And now they change; a paler shadow strews
  Its mantle o’er the mountains: parting day
  Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues        25
  With a new color as it gasps away,
The last still loveliest, till ’tis gone—and all is gray.

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