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.]

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.

O Cicero,
I have seen tempests when the scolding winds
Have rived the knotty oaks, and I read more

O Cicero,
I have seen tempests when the scolding winds
Have rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen
Th' ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam
To be exalted with the threat'ning clouds;
But never till to-night, never till now,
Did I go through a tempest dropping fire.

The winds grow high;
Impending tempests charge the sky;
The lightning flies, the thunder roars;
read more

The winds grow high;
Impending tempests charge the sky;
The lightning flies, the thunder roars;
And big waves lash the frightened shores.

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.]

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.

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.

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,