Practice Typing

As in that season, when the sun least veils His face that lightens all, what time the fly Gives way to the shrill gnat, the peasant then Upon some cliff reclind, beneath him sees Fire flies innumerous spangling oer the vale, Vineyard or tilth, where his day labour lies. With flames so numberless throughout its space Shone the eighth chasm, apparent, when the depth Was to my view exposd.