SHAPELESS monsters on giddy heights,
Gigantic ruins so cold and bare;
Yawning caverns as dark as night,
A frowning precipice here and there.
A leaden wilderness, cheerless, bleak
Mountains, with steep and rugged sides;
And often a grim, fantastic peak,
Where many a bird of prey abides.
All floating on, while each fresh cloud brings
Some different form in the dull, gray light.
And fancy might picture a thousand things,
For the sky is ever a beautiful sight.