The Storm
No breath of air. The fingers of the sun
Have touched a panting world with lambent fire,
And now the earth and heavens wrapped in one
Deep gloom, with dread await what both desire,
The eager wind comes sweeping through the street,
And atoms gathered here and scattered there
Are drawn again together till they meet,
And twisting strangely in the yellow glare
Assume unhallowed shapes. A hush, a thrill
Foretell great happenings. And by and by
A sudden blinding light--and all is still;
A crash--so might a Titan roar and die!
Then, sweet as sleep that lulls persistent pain.
In ever-swelling cadence falls the rain.
No breath of air. The fingers of the sun
Have touched a panting world with lambent fire,
And now the earth and heavens wrapped in one
Deep gloom, with dread await what both desire,
The eager wind comes sweeping through the street,
And atoms gathered here and scattered there
Are drawn again together till they meet,
And twisting strangely in the yellow glare
Assume unhallowed shapes. A hush, a thrill
Foretell great happenings. And by and by
A sudden blinding light--and all is still;
A crash--so might a Titan roar and die!
Then, sweet as sleep that lulls persistent pain.
In ever-swelling cadence falls the rain.