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.