Page:Poems Whitney.djvu/51

And here when the heavens are azure, And no dunce that you know is nearTo hint at a weather-breeder, In the magical atmosphere;

When swallows on cleaving pinions, Disdaining the earth and you,Follow the hunt far up In the calm, embosoming blue;

Or when in the west mount Prospect Indues its purple; and ah!When my planet looks down on the mill-stream My porphyro-genita;

I look with a half enchantment Over regions that wait renown,The triple crest of Waltham, And vales of Watertown;