At first, heard solemn o'er the verge of Heaven,
The Tempest growls; but as it nearer comes,
And rolls its awful burden on the wind,
The Lightnings flash a larger curve, and more
The Noise astounds; till overhead a sheet
Of livid flame discloses wide, then shuts,
And opens wider; shuts and opens still
Expansive, wrapping ether in a blaze.
Follows the loosen'd aggravated Roar,
Enlarging, deepening, mingling, peal on peal,
Crush'd, horrible, convulsing Heaven and Earth.
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For many years I was self-appointed inspector of snow-storms and
rain-storms and did my duty faithfully.
For many years I was self-appointed inspector of snow-storms and
rain-storms and did my duty faithfully.
A storm in a cream bowl.
- James Butler, first Duke of Ormonde,
A storm in a cream bowl.
- James Butler, first Duke of Ormonde,
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.
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.
Loud o'er my head though awful thunders roll,
And vivid lightnings flash from pole to pole,
Yet read more
Loud o'er my head though awful thunders roll,
And vivid lightnings flash from pole to pole,
Yet 'tis Thy voice, my God, that bids them fly,
Thy arm directs those lightnings through the sky.
Then let the good Thy mighty name revere,
And hardened sinners Thy just vengeance fear.
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.
A little gale will soon disperse that cloud
And blow it to the source from whence it came.
read more
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.
Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks. Rage, blow,
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drenched read more
Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks. Rage, blow,
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drenched our steeples, downed the cocks.
