I know a mount, the gracious Sun perceives
First when he visits, last, too, when he leaves
The world; and, vainly favored, it repays
The day-long glory of his steadfast gaze
By no change of its large calm front of snow.
A blot in the 'scutcheon. The return of the Druses. Luria. A soul's tragedy. Dramatic romances and lyrics (ed. 1856)