In blue sky floats a multitude of clouds--_x000d_
White, black, of many shades and thicknesses;_x000d_
An orange sun, about to say farewell,_x000d_
Touches the massed cloud-shapes with streaks of red._x000d_
_x000d_
The wind blows as it lists, a hurricane_x000d_
Now carving shapes, now breaking them apart:_x000d_
Fancies, colours, forms, inert creations--_x000d_
A myriad scenes, though real, yet fantastic._x000d_
_x000d_
There light clouds spread, heaping up spun cotton;_x000d_
See next a huge snake, then a strong lion;_x000d_
Again, behold a couple locked in love._x000d_
All vanish, at last, in the vapoury sky._x000d_
_x000d_
Below, the sea sings a varied music,_x000d_
But not grand, O India, nor ennobling:_x000d_
Thy waters, widely praised, murmur serene_x000d_
In soothing cadence, without a harsh roar.