Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/238

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A STORM.
Beyond, they saw the cool green land—  The land with her waving trees,And her little brooks that rise and fall  Like butterflies to the breeze;But above them the burning noontide sun  With searching stillness shone;Their throats were parched with bitter thirst,  And they knelt down one by one,And prayed to God for a drop of rain  And a gale to waft them on.
And then that little cloud was sent,  That shower in mercy given,And as a bird before the breeze,  Their bark was landward driven.And some few mornings after,  When the children met once more,And their brother told the story,  They knew it was the hourWhen they had wished for sunshine,  And God had sent the shower.
A Storm.
The sun went down in beauty; but the eyesOf ancient seamen trembled, when they sawA small black ominous spot far in the distance:—It spread, and spread—larger and dark—and cameO'ershadowing the skies the ocean rose;The gathering waves grew large, and broke in hoarseAnd hollow sounds;—the mighty winds awoke,And screamed and whistled through the cordage birds,That seemed to have no home, flocked there in terror,And sat with quivering plumage on the mast;Flashes were seen, and distant sounds were heard—Presages of a storm.—
The sun went down in beauty—but the skiesWere wildly changed.—It was a dreadful night;No moon was seen, in all the heavens, to aidOr cheer the lone and sea-beat mariner;—Planet nor guiding star broke through the gloom;—But the blue lightnings glared along the waters,As if the Fiend had fired his torch to light
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