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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.
When clouds are seen wise men put on their cloaks;
When great leaves fall then winter is at hand.
As far as could ken thy chalky cliffs,
When from thy shore the tempest beat us back,
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As far as could ken thy chalky cliffs,
When from thy shore the tempest beat us back,
I stood upon the hatches in the storm,
And when the dusky sky began to rob
My earnest-gaping sight of thy land's view,
I took a costly jewel from my neck,
A heart it was, bound in with diamonds,
And threw it toward thy land.
Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it,
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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.
Why, now blow wind, swell billow, and swim bark!
The storm is up, and all is on the hazard.
Why, now blow wind, swell billow, and swim bark!
The storm is up, and all is on the hazard.
Your chances of getting struck by lightning go up if you stand under a tree, shake your fist at the read more
Your chances of getting struck by lightning go up if you stand under a tree, shake your fist at the sky, and say "Storms suck!"
A little gale will soon disperse that cloud
And blow it to the source from whence it came.
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A little gale will soon disperse that cloud
And blow it to the source from whence it came.
Thy very beams will dry those vapors up,
For every cloud engenders not a storm.
A storm in a cream bowl.
- James Butler, first Duke of Ormonde,
A storm in a cream bowl.
- James Butler, first Duke of Ormonde,
Bursts as a wave that from the clouds impends,
And swell'd with tempests on the ship descends;
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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.