 | The Outcast, and other poems |  |
138
GOD AND MAN.
When God is heard, the giant whirlwinds rise,
And o'er the land with blackening pinions sweep,
Stretching their dark pavilion through the skies,
And heaving hills and valleys o'er the deep.
And o'er the land with blackening pinions sweep,
Stretching their dark pavilion through the skies,
And heaving hills and valleys o'er the deep.
Again he speaks! and the quelled tempests flee,
Like eagles scared, on rapid wings away,
And o'er the sky and shore and startled sea,
Peace sheds her light and happiness her ray!
Like eagles scared, on rapid wings away,
And o'er the sky and shore and startled sea,
Peace sheds her light and happiness her ray!
Man lifts his voice! what saith the marching cloud?
Straight on its errand through the vault it flies—
Heedless as if a bubble burst its shroud,
Or some light insect whispered to the skies!
Straight on its errand through the vault it flies—
Heedless as if a bubble burst its shroud,
Or some light insect whispered to the skies!
Again he speaks! will slumbering tempests wake
To do his bidding? Nay, the sullen storm
Rests on its pillow, till Jehovah break
The giant's sleep, and rouse his angry form.
To do his bidding? Nay, the sullen storm
Rests on its pillow, till Jehovah break
The giant's sleep, and rouse his angry form.
| The Outcast, and other poems | |