Recently I shared a poem from William Strode (1602-1645) which was an homage to music. Another of his atmospheric poems emphasises his wonderful sympathy with the elements:
I saw fair Chloris walk alone,
When feather’d rain came softly down,
As Jove descending from his Tower
To court her in a silver shower:
The wanton snow flew to her breast,
Like pretty birds into their nest,
But, overcome with whiteness there,
For grief it thaw’d into a tear:
Thence falling on her garment hem,
To deck her, froze into a gem.
Would that I achieve the same sublime imagery with my own poetry.
Very best wishes – Denny Bradbury