 | The March of Man and Other Poems |  |
169
A STORM SCENE
Crash out, ye mighty chords!—The heavens are blackWith wrath; the lightnings shudder through the air,
And blind with fury tear
The huddling rack,
Furling its pale and tattered banners o'er
Yon steel expanse;
Tender as newborn love a rainbow glows,
The warm mist 'neath it flushes moist and rose,
City and sea and shore
Steeped in one trance.
170
And every treetop sparkles with its leaves
Refulgent in the setting sun;
The meads are golden-green, rich with the storm
Of Nature's summer-love;
Far in the night above
A white bird twinkles like a star, and cleaves
The thunder-caverns dun;
Denser and louder forth the sullen tempests swarm.
Refulgent in the setting sun;
The meads are golden-green, rich with the storm
Of Nature's summer-love;
Far in the night above
A white bird twinkles like a star, and cleaves
The thunder-caverns dun;
Denser and louder forth the sullen tempests swarm.
Crash out, vast symphony!—thy lover hears
And worships.—It is over—those fierce tears
Have blotted all to grey;
With smothered moan
Great Nature's passion-music, like our own,
Is sobbed away.
And worships.—It is over—those fierce tears
Have blotted all to grey;
With smothered moan
Great Nature's passion-music, like our own,
Is sobbed away.
| The March of Man and Other Poems | |