MARCH z, 1896.
{"newspaper_name": "The Wilmingtonian, and Delaware advertiser.", "edition": "01", "page": "p1", "byline": ""}
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than lookest in thy beauty from the clouds,
and laughest at the storm.


But to Ossan thou lookest in vain; for he
behods thy beams no more; whether thy
yellow hair flows on the eastern clouds, or
tremblest at the gates of the west. But
thou art, perhaps, like me for season; thy
years will have no end Thou shalt sleep in
clouds careless of the voice Of the morning.
Exult then, o Sun, in the strength of thy
youth.-Age is dark and unlovely; it is like
the glimmering light of the moon, when it
shines through broken clouds. and the mist
is on the hills; the bias, Of the north is on
the plain, the traveller shrinks in the midst
of bis journey.