106 
HAROLD’S DISCUSSIONS. 
this cloud stretches from horizon to horizon in a con¬ 
tinuous gray sheet. 
“ I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers 
From the seas and the streams ; 
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid 
In their noonday dreams. 
From my wings are shaken the dews that waken 
The sweet birds every one, 
When rocked to rest on their mother’s breast, 
As she dances about the sun. 
I wield the flail of the lashing hail. 
And whiten the green plains under. 
And then again I dissolve in rain. 
And laugh as I pass in thunder.” 
The Cloud, Shelley. 
