Very well-written. I can percieve a mature voice in this poem, and the somewhat sad, yet content outlook that I picked up from it is very satisfying to me. Add that to the beautiful imagery, and it's a great poem. The only (very minor) thing that bothered me was the capitalization at the beginning of each line; my brain naturally starts a new sentence on capitalization, and that was a tiny nuisance.
For a short space of time I remained at the window watching the pallid lightnings that played above Mont Blanc and listening to the rushing of the Arve, which pursued its noise way beneath. The same lulling sounds acted as a lullaby to my too keen sensations; when I placed my head upon my pillow, sleep crept over me; I felt it as it came and blessed the giver of oblivion. — Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
