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Chronicles and Characters

By Robert Lytton (Owen Meredith): In Two Volumes
  

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XVII.

Certainly, he was out that night,
What time the fearful storm began.
For lo! on a sudden, left and right,
The heaven was gash'd from sky to sky,

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Seam'd across, and sunder'd quite,
By a swift, snaky, fork-tongued flash
Of brightness intolerably bright;
As, ever, the angry Cherub, vow'd
To vengeance, fast thro' plunging cloud
Wielding wide his withering lash,
That wild horseman now pursued:
Who lurk'd, his vengeance to elude,
In deep unprobèd darkness still.
Forthwith, the wounded night 'gan spill
Great drops: then fierce—crash crusht on crash—
As it grieved beneath each burning gash,
The darkness bellow'd; and outsprang
Wild on the plain, whilst yet it rang
With thunder, the infernal steed,
And dash'd onward at full speed,
Blind with pain, with streaming mane,
And snorting nostril on the strain,
Where, dasht from off his flanks, the rain
Thro' all the desolate abyss
Of darkness, now began to hiss.