Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow,—

Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.

Lord Byron 1788-1824: Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 182.

'T is distance lends enchantment to the view,

And robes the mountain in its azure hue.

Thomas Campbell (1777-1844): Pleasures of Hope. Part i. Line 7.

When Britain first, at Heaven's command,

Arose from out the azure main,

This was the charter of her land,

And guardian angels sung the strain:

Rule, Britannia! Britannia rules the waves!

Britons never shall be slaves.

James Thomson (1700-1748): Alfred. Act ii. Sc. 5.

When Freedom from her mountain-height

Unfurled her standard to the air,

She tore the azure robe of night,

And set the stars of glory there.

She mingled with its gorgeous dyes

The milky baldric of the skies,

And striped its pure, celestial white

With streakings of the morning light.

Flag of the free heart's hope and home!

By angel hands to valour given!

Thy stars have lit the welkin dome,

And all thy hues were born in heaven.

Forever float that standard sheet!

Where breathes the foe but falls before us,

With Freedom's soil beneath our feet,

And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us?

Joseph Rodman Drake (1795-1820): The American Flag.