The Birth Of The War-God (Canto First) - Uma's Nativity Comments

Oft, when the gleamings of his mountain brass Flash through the clouds and tint them as they pass, Those glories mock the hues of closing day, And heaven's bright wantons hail their hour of play; Try, ere the time, the magic of their glance, And deck their beauty for the twilight dance. Dear to the sylphs are the cool shadows thrown By dark clouds wandering round the mountain's zone, Till frightened by the storm and rain they seek Eternal sunshine on each loftier peak. Far spread the wilds where eager hunters roam, Tracking the lion to his dreary home. Beautiful translation. Thanks.