The Sky

What art thou, sky of blue, so high? With thy gentle clouds that drift and play, What secrets dost thou whisper, and sigh, In the golden hues of the dawning day?

Oft do I gaze upon thy face so fair, In inspiration pure, my heart doth swell; Thy colors weave a wondrous tapestry there, That speaks in tongues of beauty hard to tell.

As sunsets blaze in crimson light, And night enfolds with a tranquil hand, Thy shifting shades, a constant delight, Transform my spirit to a land so grand.

Thou art the cradle of every dream, Within thy vastness, all hearts may gleam.

—Felicia Hemans

• Felicia Hemans