Beautiful cloud! with folds so soft and fair, <br />Swimming in the pure quiet air! <br />Thy fleeces bathed in sunlight, while below <br />Thy shadow o'er the vale moves slow; <br />Where, midst their labour, pause the reaper train <br />As cool it comes along the grain. <br />Beautiful cloud! I would I were with thee <br />In thy calm way o'er land and sea: <br />To rest on thy unrolling skirts, and look <br />On Earth as on an open book; <br />On streams that tie her realms with silver bands, <br />And the long ways that seam her lands; <br />And hear her humming cities, and the sound <br />Of the great ocean breaking round. <br />Ay--I would sail upon thy air-borne car <br />To blooming regions distant far, <br />To where the sun of Andalusia shines <br />On his own olive-groves and vines, <br />Or the soft lights of Italy's bright sky <br />In smiles upon her ruins lie. <br />But I would woo the winds to let us rest <br />O'er Greece long fettered and oppressed, <br /> <br />Whose sons at length have heard the call that comes <br />From the old battle-fields and tombs, <br />And risen, and drawn the sword, and on the foe <br />Have dealt the swift and desperate blow, <br />And the Othman power is cloven, and the stroke <br />Has touched its chains, and they are broke. <br />Ay, we would linger till the sunset there <br />Should come, to purple all the air, <br />And thou reflect upon the sacred ground <br />The ruddy radiance streaming round. <br /> <br />Bright meteor! for the summer noontide made! <br />Thy peerless beauty yet shall fade. <br />The sun, that fills with light each glistening fold, <br />Shall set, and leave thee dark and cold: <br />The blast shall rend thy skirts, or thou may'st frown <br />In the dark heaven when storms come down, <br />And weep in rain, till man's inquiring eye <br />Miss thee, forever from the sky.<br /><br />William Cullen Bryant<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-a-cloud/
