Sonnet On The Apennines Poem by Joanna Baillie

IN the sun's eye I sate, nor deem'd his ray
Too bright to gaze on, for the autumnal breeze,
Though gently whispering thro' the yet green trees,
Was cool and humid, and around me lay,
Toss'd like the billows of some mighty bay,
Etruria's Apennines, range over range,
Swelling in long and wave-like interchange,
Till far beyond, with glittering hamlets gay,
Spread the green plains of vine-clad Lombardy;
The lights and shadows of declining day
Flung on the whole their vast variety,
While mingling sounds, that fill'd the subject way,
Rose through the clear still air, and seem'd to be
Sweet as the scene, and breath'd all harmony.