 | The Last Days of Herculaneum |  |
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Meanwhile, still gathering fury, raged the storm;
The winds rush'd through the city with the force
Of mountain billows in a hurricane:—
Down smote the crimson showers of burning coals;—
Then up again on the resistless blast
High as the clouds they flew—and round and round
Wheel'd—fell—and rose—and dash'd on earth again,
Swift as the stroke of lightning:—with them mix'd
Huge rolling waves of smoke intensely black
And clouds of ashes.—Carcases of men—
Masses of blazing timber—trees entire
Torn from their roots, were tossing in the air
Like chaff.—It seem'd as though the globe itself
With one terrific whirlwind were convulsed,—
And this the centre of the horrid wheel.
The winds rush'd through the city with the force
Of mountain billows in a hurricane:—
Down smote the crimson showers of burning coals;—
Then up again on the resistless blast
High as the clouds they flew—and round and round
Wheel'd—fell—and rose—and dash'd on earth again,
Swift as the stroke of lightning:—with them mix'd
Huge rolling waves of smoke intensely black
And clouds of ashes.—Carcases of men—
Masses of blazing timber—trees entire
Torn from their roots, were tossing in the air
Like chaff.—It seem'd as though the globe itself
With one terrific whirlwind were convulsed,—
And this the centre of the horrid wheel.
The closing hour is nigh:—like dying man
More fiercely struggling at his latest gasp,—
The earthquake—and the storm—and fiery hill,
With fury tenfold raged:—the thunders roll'd
As though the very vault of heaven would burst:—
The earth groan'd to its centre:—direful chasms,
Night-black and fathomless, open'd and shut—
And gaped again—and swallow'd in their jaws
Houses and living men—and heaps of dead—
And palaces and streets entire. Deep down
In the black gulf they sunk:—the crashing earth
Knit to again and crumbled them to dust.—
The city like a forest in a storm
Waved to and fro:—opposing houses struck—
And shiver'd—and fell down.—The temple huge
Of Jupiter the Thunderer, whose walls
Of strength immense and deep foundations stood
Unharm'd till now,—fix'd as some Alpine hill
That from eternity has been—and seems
Destined to all eternity to be—
See! to and fro it heaves:—the mighty dome,
Like cedar's top beneath a raging wind,
Swings heavy through the air:—the thick walls crack—
Open—and close—and open wide again:—
Down—down it thunders:—headlong down to earth
The ponderous fabric, crashing—grinding falls—
Making itself an earthquake—and a din
That mates the thunder.—
More fiercely struggling at his latest gasp,—
The earthquake—and the storm—and fiery hill,
With fury tenfold raged:—the thunders roll'd
80
The earth groan'd to its centre:—direful chasms,
Night-black and fathomless, open'd and shut—
And gaped again—and swallow'd in their jaws
Houses and living men—and heaps of dead—
And palaces and streets entire. Deep down
In the black gulf they sunk:—the crashing earth
Knit to again and crumbled them to dust.—
The city like a forest in a storm
Waved to and fro:—opposing houses struck—
And shiver'd—and fell down.—The temple huge
Of Jupiter the Thunderer, whose walls
Of strength immense and deep foundations stood
Unharm'd till now,—fix'd as some Alpine hill
That from eternity has been—and seems
Destined to all eternity to be—
See! to and fro it heaves:—the mighty dome,
Like cedar's top beneath a raging wind,
Swings heavy through the air:—the thick walls crack—
Open—and close—and open wide again:—
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The ponderous fabric, crashing—grinding falls—
Making itself an earthquake—and a din
That mates the thunder.—
But o'er all distinct,—
The groans of earth—the bellowings of the sky—
The whirlwind's howl—the rush of burning rocks—
The whirring of the fiery shower—the crash
Of thousand ruins near—o'er every sound
Raising its hideous and undying voice,
Vesuvius from its hollow crater roar'd;—
A noise of thunders mix'd, and rushing floods—
Tempests—and worlds on fire—and oceans vast
Boiling like cauldrons!—Never ceased its din;—
Seem'd as the eternal fires that live within
The hollow womb of earth,—huge as appears
To mortal eye the cavity of heaven,—
Had from its mouth as from a trumpet breathed
Their aggregated roarings.—All the air
Seem'd only sound—dense—solid sound, that like
The depth of Egypt's darkness might be felt:—
With stunning force, as of a mighty blow,
It struck upon the ear that men fell down
And died, who heard it.—Trees, and streams, and hills,
Ev'n when the earthquake paused, were quivering still
Beneath its dire concussions, and the dome
Of heaven itself seem'd lifted up and down
By that terrific uproar.—Distant lands
Heard it and shudder'd—and gave thanks to God
That they themselves were safe. On Afric's coast
Far distant over lands and ocean wide
The Moorish mother started from her sleep,
And hush'd her frighted babe, and blest the name
Of Allah as she listen'd to the sound.
The groans of earth—the bellowings of the sky—
The whirlwind's howl—the rush of burning rocks—
The whirring of the fiery shower—the crash
Of thousand ruins near—o'er every sound
Raising its hideous and undying voice,
Vesuvius from its hollow crater roar'd;—
A noise of thunders mix'd, and rushing floods—
Tempests—and worlds on fire—and oceans vast
Boiling like cauldrons!—Never ceased its din;—
Seem'd as the eternal fires that live within
The hollow womb of earth,—huge as appears
To mortal eye the cavity of heaven,—
Had from its mouth as from a trumpet breathed
Their aggregated roarings.—All the air
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The depth of Egypt's darkness might be felt:—
With stunning force, as of a mighty blow,
It struck upon the ear that men fell down
And died, who heard it.—Trees, and streams, and hills,
Ev'n when the earthquake paused, were quivering still
Beneath its dire concussions, and the dome
Of heaven itself seem'd lifted up and down
By that terrific uproar.—Distant lands
Heard it and shudder'd—and gave thanks to God
That they themselves were safe. On Afric's coast
Far distant over lands and ocean wide
The Moorish mother started from her sleep,
And hush'd her frighted babe, and blest the name
Of Allah as she listen'd to the sound.
Now like a mighty river when with rains
Surcharged it swells above its banks, and makes
New channels for its fury,—rolling on
Its heavy waves of liquid fire, came down
The all-destroying lava. Like the hiss
Of million angry serpents was the sound
That went before it as the reeking earth,—
The rain-streams, and whate'er of moist was near,
Dried sudden up. The clear red torrent look'd
Like molten iron from the furnace mouth
Pouring;—but such in bulk as if all earth
Her mines had emptied—and in the vast fires
Of hell their mingled metals had been cast,—
And thence from its wide jaws, in such hot flood
Spew'd forth again.—The tumbling of its waves
Was like the rush of ocean, with deep moans
Of thunder mix'd,—and the loud jar and shake
Of countless armies,—and ten thousand cars
Of iron fiercely rolling.—Not like stream
From o'ergorged river, shallow at the first
And gently deep'ning as the floods descend,
But high in air its horrid ridge came on,
Abrupt—like billow rushing to the shore
In a strong tempest;—or as when the deeps
Roll'd back, and stood like walls for Israel's host
To pass the Red Sea's bed.
Surcharged it swells above its banks, and makes
New channels for its fury,—rolling on
Its heavy waves of liquid fire, came down
83
Of million angry serpents was the sound
That went before it as the reeking earth,—
The rain-streams, and whate'er of moist was near,
Dried sudden up. The clear red torrent look'd
Like molten iron from the furnace mouth
Pouring;—but such in bulk as if all earth
Her mines had emptied—and in the vast fires
Of hell their mingled metals had been cast,—
And thence from its wide jaws, in such hot flood
Spew'd forth again.—The tumbling of its waves
Was like the rush of ocean, with deep moans
Of thunder mix'd,—and the loud jar and shake
Of countless armies,—and ten thousand cars
Of iron fiercely rolling.—Not like stream
From o'ergorged river, shallow at the first
And gently deep'ning as the floods descend,
But high in air its horrid ridge came on,
Abrupt—like billow rushing to the shore
In a strong tempest;—or as when the deeps
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To pass the Red Sea's bed.
At its approach
The earth shook:—rocks split open and fell in,
Melting like snow that sinks into the brook:—
Green trees were turn'd to cinder at its touch:—
Houses and streets to liquid fire were changed
And swell'd the dreadful tide:—the air above
Seem'd melting too, and glow'd with fervent heat
Like the terrific atmosphere of hell.—
Onward it moves;—o'er half the city sweeps;—
O'er mighty towers—and battled walls—and holds
Of strength, flows easy as the swelling wave
Above the sea shore pebbles.
The earth shook:—rocks split open and fell in,
Melting like snow that sinks into the brook:—
Green trees were turn'd to cinder at its touch:—
Houses and streets to liquid fire were changed
And swell'd the dreadful tide:—the air above
Seem'd melting too, and glow'd with fervent heat
Like the terrific atmosphere of hell.—
Onward it moves;—o'er half the city sweeps;—
O'er mighty towers—and battled walls—and holds
Of strength, flows easy as the swelling wave
Above the sea shore pebbles.
Shriek nor groan
Arose at its approach,—for there was none
That saw—or heard—or felt it;—all were dead;—
With such destructive fury late the storm
Of lightning and of wind had raged;—so thick
The labouring earth had shook the ruins down;—
So suffocating blew the scorching air.
Close as along some heath that peasants fire
At night, the curling flames ascend,—so fell
The streaming flashes, as if heaven had sent
A shower of fire for rain:—ten thousand bolts
Fell every instant, battling through the air
Like sun-rays divers glinting from the facel
Of restless waters.
Arose at its approach,—for there was none
That saw—or heard—or felt it;—all were dead;—
With such destructive fury late the storm
85
The labouring earth had shook the ruins down;—
So suffocating blew the scorching air.
Close as along some heath that peasants fire
At night, the curling flames ascend,—so fell
The streaming flashes, as if heaven had sent
A shower of fire for rain:—ten thousand bolts
Fell every instant, battling through the air
Like sun-rays divers glinting from the facel
Of restless waters.
Through the city now
The fire-flood goes, and in a cataract huge
From the steep rocks pours down into the sea.—
Right o'er, with sweep tremendous, the red stream
Launches into the deep:—the deep shrinks back
Hissing and roaring—steaming to the skies—
Seething like hottest cauldron:—flashing up
Torrents of boiling brine, and darkening all
With clouds of densest mist. Again the waves
Return;—again the fiery cataract meets
And drives it bellowing back.—
The fire-flood goes, and in a cataract huge
From the steep rocks pours down into the sea.—
Right o'er, with sweep tremendous, the red stream
Launches into the deep:—the deep shrinks back
Hissing and roaring—steaming to the skies—
Seething like hottest cauldron:—flashing up
Torrents of boiling brine, and darkening all
With clouds of densest mist. Again the waves
86
And drives it bellowing back.—
But look! the earth
In its last pang seems quaking:—back recoils
The burning lava—rolling on itself:—
The ground is lifted up:—the city rides
On the huge swell like bark upon the waves:—
The sea, loud thundering, from the shore retires
Far as the eye can reach.—Then sinks again
The earth;—the city sinks:—the sea comes back,
Piled in a ridge that seems to touch the sky:—
Swift as the wind it comes;—it roars—it foams—
It shakes the inmost earth:—above the cliffs—
Above the loftiest hills it towers;—it bursts:—
The fires are instant quench'd:—the lava stream
Stops—solid.—But again
The ground with last convulsive struggle heaves;
The sea hastes back:—the dark and drench'd remains,
Of that ill-fated city are lift up
High, trembling, in the air:—the giant rocks
That gird the shores fall shivering to th' abyss:—
The earth like a tempestuous ocean rolls,
Sinking in hollows—rising into steeps.—
Here in a trough the tallest pines sink down:—
There, rivers lifted up on high, their floods
Pour forth in vast cascades:—a forest here
With its innumerous trees loud howling rides
Aloft through air to seek another bed;—
There, tumbled o'er, its branches root in earth,
Its roots shoot out like branches.
In its last pang seems quaking:—back recoils
The burning lava—rolling on itself:—
The ground is lifted up:—the city rides
On the huge swell like bark upon the waves:—
The sea, loud thundering, from the shore retires
Far as the eye can reach.—Then sinks again
The earth;—the city sinks:—the sea comes back,
Piled in a ridge that seems to touch the sky:—
Swift as the wind it comes;—it roars—it foams—
It shakes the inmost earth:—above the cliffs—
Above the loftiest hills it towers;—it bursts:—
The fires are instant quench'd:—the lava stream
Stops—solid.—But again
The ground with last convulsive struggle heaves;
The sea hastes back:—the dark and drench'd remains,
Of that ill-fated city are lift up
87
That gird the shores fall shivering to th' abyss:—
The earth like a tempestuous ocean rolls,
Sinking in hollows—rising into steeps.—
Here in a trough the tallest pines sink down:—
There, rivers lifted up on high, their floods
Pour forth in vast cascades:—a forest here
With its innumerous trees loud howling rides
Aloft through air to seek another bed;—
There, tumbled o'er, its branches root in earth,
Its roots shoot out like branches.
From the sea,
Shouldering aside the waves, new islands peer,
That look abroad awhile, then dive again,
Making huge whirlpools as the waters rush
To fill the mighty void:—and from the deeps
Flames issue, shaking high their bloody flags,
As for destruction's triumph.—Hill 'gainst hill
Clashes;—mountain to mountain nods.—
Shouldering aside the waves, new islands peer,
That look abroad awhile, then dive again,
Making huge whirlpools as the waters rush
To fill the mighty void:—and from the deeps
Flames issue, shaking high their bloody flags,
As for destruction's triumph.—Hill 'gainst hill
Clashes;—mountain to mountain nods.—
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Yawns then
The ground—a dark terrific gulf:—at once
The city sinks as in a sepulchre;—
Deep down it sinks in that tremendous pit,
Like ship that goes into the bottomless deep,—
And the huge earth-waves close above, and seal
Its everlasting tomb.—
The ground—a dark terrific gulf:—at once
The city sinks as in a sepulchre;—
Deep down it sinks in that tremendous pit,
Like ship that goes into the bottomless deep,—
And the huge earth-waves close above, and seal
Its everlasting tomb.—
'Tis gone! where late
The mighty city stood no trace is left;—
Its costly palaces—its splendid streets—
Its awful temples—all are gone. Remains
A dark-hued plain alone, whose rugged face
The lessening lightnings plough;—o'er which the flood
Of lava slowly settles in a lake.—
Years—ages—centuries—shall pass away—
And none shall tell where once that city stood.
The mighty city stood no trace is left;—
Its costly palaces—its splendid streets—
Its awful temples—all are gone. Remains
A dark-hued plain alone, whose rugged face
The lessening lightnings plough;—o'er which the flood
Of lava slowly settles in a lake.—
Years—ages—centuries—shall pass away—
And none shall tell where once that city stood.
| The Last Days of Herculaneum | |