Hark, how the thunder roars!—along the sky
Shivers the ghastly bolt from east to west;
A burning canopy o'er all is hung;
No quiet star is seen with sober light,—
But from the dome and quarters of high Heaven
Blaze after blaze, and peal on peal succeed—
The light and converse of the elements.
But nature is too stern for gentle tears,
And the forked flash from out the sullen clouds
More deadly fierce cleaves through the stagnant air;
The streets are hushed and void, a fearful doom
Seems to deliver the huge city up
To the storm's wrath,—while ever and anon
The lightnings pause, and shake and quivering
Threaten destruction—but an angel waits,
And bids them vanish to their gloomy tents.—