EARTH has not anything to show more fair

    Dull would he be of soul who could pass by

    A sight so touching¹ in its majesty²：

    This City now doth， like a garment， wear

    The beauty of the morning； silent， bare，

    Ships， towers， domes³， theatres， and temples lie

    Open unto the fields， and to the sky；

    All bright and glittering⁴ in the smokeless air.

    Never did sun more beautifully steep

    In his first splendour， valley， rock， or hill；

    Ne'er saw I， never felt， a calm so deep！

    The river glideth at his own sweet will：

    Dear God！ the very houses seem asleep；

    And all that mighty⁵ heart is lying still！