The Poetical Works of Robert Story | ||
XXIV.
The summer-morning sun, as we advanced,Full brightly on our armèd march had glanced;
The quiet Till had brightly seen us through,
And past the base of terraced Homilheugh;
Whence the pleased eye saw, 'mid a spacious plain,
The blossomed broom of Ewart's fair domain.
But when we reached the destined river's edge,
A sudden gloom had fall'n on bank and sedge.
Dark clouds were mirrored in the gloomy stream;
With frequent flash, the lightning 'gan to gleam;
And, following fast, the thunder's sullen sound
Was heard to mutter all the Mountains round!
I felt, myself, a fear, and thought I saw,
On many a visage round me, signs of awe.
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The natural feeling that disturbed my breast.
“It seems,” I said, “as if the Thunder-Power
I lately served, in yonder sky did lour
On his Apostate Son! as if he spoke
The wrath of an Immortal in each stroke!”
The Poetical Works of Robert Story | ||