[Illustration: As they looked the sunlight triumphed, scattering the fog into queer floating shapes, luminous and fraught with weird suggestions.... One might have thought a splendid city lay before them, ... impalpable, yet triumphant, with its hint of destiny.] Oft from my window have I seen the day Break o'er thy roofs and towers like a dream In mystic silver, mirrored by the Bay, Bedecked with shadow craft ... and then a gleam Of golden sunlight cleaving swiftly sure Some narrow cloud-rift--limning hill or plain With flecks of gypsy-radiance that endure But for the moment and are gone again.…
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