Which are the clouds, and which the mountains? See, <br />They mix and melt together! Yon blue hill <br />Looks fleeting as the vapors which distill <br />Their dews upon its summit, while the free <br />And far-off clouds, now solid, dark, and still, <br />An aspect wear of calm eternity. <br />Each seems the other, as our fancies will -- <br />The cloud a mount, the mount a cloud, and we <br />Gaze doubtfully. So everywhere on earth, <br />This foothold where we stand with slipping feet, <br />The unsubstantial and substantial meet, <br />And we are fooled until made wise by Time. <br />Is not the obvious lesson something worth, <br />Lady? or have I wov'n an idle rhyme?<br /><br />Henry Timrod<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-11-2/
