By a cliff a golden cloud once lingered; <br />On his breast it slept, but, rising early, <br />Off it gently rushed across the pearly <br />Blue of sky, a tiny thing and winged. <br /> <br />Still, a trace it left upon the stony <br />Giant's heart, and plunged in thought and weeping <br />Slow and tortured tears, he stands there, keeping <br />Vigil o'er the gloomy waste and lonely.<br /><br />Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-cliff-3/
