 Or, where the floating mass so imperfectly obstructs the color of the firmament, a slender foot and fairy limb, resting too heavily upon the frail support, may be thrust through, and suddenly withdrawn, while longing fancy follows them in vain.  Yonder again is an airy archipelago, where the sunbeams love to linger in their journeyings through space.  Every one of those little clouds has been dipped and steeped in radiance, which the slightest pressure might disengage in silvery profusion, like water wrung from a sea-maid's hair.  Bright they are as a young man's visions, and, like them, would be realized in chillness, obscurity, and tears.  I will look on them no more.