University of Virginia Library

Deep mutterings were heard,
As of arising thunders;—now in low
And hoarsely-moaning tones, that stirred
All hearts with secret terror—then a long
Continuous, melancholy flow
Of sound, like waves that roll among
The deep, o'erhanging woods;
And then the mountains shook, and sounds
Broke forth from their deep wombs; and then
The roar of rushing floods—
That came, in swift and fearful bounds,
From mountain-top to glen.
The hearts of men were hush'd in chilling fear;
And from the palace and the peasant's cot
They came, and each drew near
The other, muttering some fearful thought.
And straining eyes were turned to heaven;
For thence—the prophet-man had said—
Should come their fearful doom:
But though the mountain-cliffs were riven—
And though each little rippling rill,
That silvered once the meadows fair,
Was swelled to rolling billows—still
No tempest broke the air:
No cloud enwrapped in sable gloom
The blue and peaceful sky;
But there the holy star-light beamed,
And placidly its radiance streamed
Upon each up-turn'd eye.

Then a quick, sharp crash, like a trumpet-blast,
Broke around and above, and the light was past;
And the trampling thunders came fierce and fast:—
Men looked around, and they looked their last.

A moment it paused, and the wind was stilled;
Not a passing zephyr the leaflets thrilled—
Not a ripple broke over the water;
And then o'er the silent sky was spread
A terrible mantle of bloody red,
Like crimson field of slaughter.
And then the lightnings, fork'd and bright,
Gleamed out on the face of the fearful night,
And wrote, in letters of ghastly white,
The sentence of all mankind:
And the eyes of men, in the awful light
Of that flaming sky—grew blind.
A shriek of desperate wo—
A hopeless, wailing, lengthen'd cry,
Of all the soul's deep agony—
Went up to that red sky.
Hushed were their voices then:
And on the stony earth they sank—
The stricken sons of men!
Forgotten now were power and rank:
The diadems of kings were low;
Monarch and peasant felt the blow:
And man crept nearer to his brother—
(He cared not who the wretch might be)
But fearfully each sought another,
For fellowship in misery.
The beggar's arm was wound a prince's neck around—
The neck of royalty.
They waited for their graves—
That silent multitude
The monarch and his slaves,
In golden and in iron chains,
With sightless eyes and throbbing veins,
In wild confusion stood.
There was stillness in heaven and earth,
Silence, and sadness, and gloom:
The world had forgotten its joyous birth,
And waited for the tomb.
And men were crouching on the ground,
And listening to their own dull breathing;
And over their bodies, and round and round,
The slimy snakes were wreathing.
The roar of the tiger was hushed:
The lion sank down, with his spirit crushed;
And forth from their caverns the jackals rushed,
And mingled with mankind!—
All—all—alike—were BLIND!