Glitterance

As the rooks, at dawn of day, Bestirring them to dry their feathers chill, Some speed their way a-field; and homeward some, Returning, cross their flight; while some abide, And wheel around their airy lodge: so seem’d That glitterance, wafted on alternate wing, As upon certain stair it came, and clash’d Its shining.

And now had Thalaba Perform’d his last ablutions, and he stood And gaz’d upon the little boat […] Till, from the glitterance of the sunny main, He turn’d his aching eyes, And then upon the beach he laid him down, And watch’d the rising tide.

Magnificent as the archangel’s glance Turning a farewell look on primal earth Of light ineffable, ere he stretched forth His crimson pinions o’er the wide expanse Of young creation, sleeping in the trance That love had pour’d around its innocent birth, When seraphs mingled in its infant mirth, Slow sinks the Autumn sunset’s glitterance! O the brave architecture of the skies! […] Very well indeed, Harry, for an impromptu; glitterance is an ill phrase, a vile phrase—Peter, for the sake of the metre; however——