The earth is rocking, the skies are riven--
Jove in a passion, in god-like fashion,
Is breaking read more

The earth is rocking, the skies are riven--
Jove in a passion, in god-like fashion,
Is breaking the crystal urns of heaven.

The storm is master. Man, as a ball, is tossed twixt winds and
billows.
[Ger., Der Sturm ist read more

The storm is master. Man, as a ball, is tossed twixt winds and
billows.
[Ger., Der Sturm ist Meister; Wind und Well spielen
Ball mit dem Menschen.]

Roads are wet where'er one wendeth,
And with rain the thistle bendeth,
And the brook cries like read more

Roads are wet where'er one wendeth,
And with rain the thistle bendeth,
And the brook cries like a child!
Not a rainbow shines to cheer us;
Ah! the sun comes never near us,
And the heavens look dark and wile.

When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks;
When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand;
read more

When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks;
When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand;
When the sun sets, who doth not look for night?
Untimely storms makes men expect a dearth.

Bursts as a wave that from the clouds impends,
And swell'd with tempests on the ship descends;
read more

Bursts as a wave that from the clouds impends,
And swell'd with tempests on the ship descends;
White are the decks with foam; the winds aloud
Howl o'er the masts, and sing through every shroud:
Pale, trembling, tir'd, the sailors freeze with fears;
And instant death on every wave appears.

Methinks I am a prophet new inspired
And thus, expiring, do foretell of him:
His rash fierce read more

Methinks I am a prophet new inspired
And thus, expiring, do foretell of him:
His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last,
For violent fires soon burn out themselves;
Small show'rs last long, but sudden storms are short;
He tires betimes that spurs too fast betimes;
With eager feeding doth choke the feeder;
Light vanity, insatiate cormorant,
Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.

A storm in a cream bowl.
- James Butler, first Duke of Ormonde,

A storm in a cream bowl.
- James Butler, first Duke of Ormonde,

Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it,
read more

Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it,
Making it momentany as a sound,
Swift as a shadow, short as any dream,
Brief as the lightning in the collied night,
That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth,
And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold!'
The jaws of darkness do devour it up:
So quick bright things come to confusion.

It is a tempest in a tumbler of water.
[Fr., C'est une tempete dans un verre d'eau.]

It is a tempest in a tumbler of water.
[Fr., C'est une tempete dans un verre d'eau.]