Days and Hours :: :: University of Virginia Library

The thunder roll'd o'er land and sea,
The storm howl'd over rock and river,
‘The Past hath been, and shall not be
For ever, and for ever!’
Blue lightnings streaming over deserts vast
Glimmer on flying phantoms dimly shown,
And threatening spectres that pursue in haste
Thro' dismal aisles, and cities overthrown.

II

Hark! 'tis the sound of War in heaven,
Death leads the armies of the air,
His Giants o'er the moonlight driven
Blow trumpets of despair;
I hear a cry as of departing Powers,
And ere the banners of the foe be furl'd,
Beauty and Strength shall perish with the hours,
'Mid the fall'n fragments of a ruin'd world.

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III

Three dead leaves of an aged vine
Tap doleful at my window-pane;
The cold stars shudder, as they shine
Thro' wind, and gusty rain;
Far off I hear the torrent waters thrown
Into the valley, like a battle-host,
The ancient forests in their sorrow groan,
And frighted Nature echoes ‘I am lost!’

IV

The voice of one forlorn and blind,
A piteous voice, yet golden-sweet,
Comes in the pauses of the wind,
And makes my heart to beat;
‘Ah! Death, ah! Night, ah! whither shall I fly
To some fond heart, as in the days of old?
Take me, O friends, or surely I shall die,
The world is dark, and I am faint and cold!’

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V

A voice more solemn than the other
A tender voice, sublime in sadness,
Like brother speaking unto brother,
Soars thro' the storm's shrill madness;
‘Come to me, I will shield thee from the wind,
Forsaken Wanderer, wheresoe'er thou art;
Come to my stricken heart, and thou shalt find
A home, and thou and I will never part.’

VI

The thunder roll'd o'er land and sea,
The storm howl'd on o'er waste and city:
I knew that voice of agony,
I knew that voice of pity:
'Twas Love, fond Love, dejected and forsaken,
Seeking the Poet thro' the stormy clime;
'Twas the sad Poet by the night o'ertaken,
That found lost Love amid the wrecks of Time.