Billowy cotton fields, of hazy mist,
Trail far beyond thy distant heaven,
Behind shadow of birthing day, ah, breathren!
Mauve, violet, upon thy virgin canvas, sun-kissed,
Calleth thy sun to sky, "Age quod agis*",
As through thy ages, dawn hath merely been
Thy dance of tinted beauty, dawn to behold, now, as then,
To fall upon thy lofty soul, eternally blissed,
Thy sea of rolling cloud doth awaken, gently,
Pink, sweetly dainty, as infant's blush,
Amidst thy placid sweet of utter gaiety,
Colors changing, ever placid, ever lovely,
As thy voyeurs below, thy trees of emerald green brush,
Reach skyward, in thy silent salute to majesty.
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