I stood upon the utmost Pier, when the Heavens' broad, Triumphal arch,

Was kissed, sweetly, with the Sun's Homeward March;

That circling, Solar Knight,

Un-bedecked, yet flawless, and unfathomablly bright,

In all his victorious splendor, upon vanquishing the Dark,

And Banishing the shadowy Demons of the Night.

And, once-shadowy palms were Green again, and faint Breezes,

Were, from the Land, ushered forth, to, through the long, hot Hours, embrace the Light-garbed Sea.

The Clouds were wide and lonely; washed in the Morning,

They gathered mid-way around the Horizon's distant height,

And, in their fleeting, waning, Glory, shone,

As would the Armies of some Sea-Side Battle, overthrown:

In the Mortal haste of Inland flight,

As did many a foam-crested wave, with a Gracious, Lordly gaze.