GREAT God! snow, hail! make darkness! thunder! burn! On earth thy store of purpling storm-clouds turn! Slay me, and I will cease; but while I live, I revel on, though worse than this thou give. The god that mastered thee leads me; he drove Thee through the brazen bower in gold, O Jove. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE PIOUS MEMORY OF THE YOUNG LADY MRS. ANNE KILLIGREW by JOHN DRYDEN TO THE BOY by ELIZABETH CLEMENTINE DODGE KINNEY THE BUTTERFLY by MARGARET AVISON BOX-CAR LETTERS by KARLE WILSON BAKER PSALM 68 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE BEGGAR by MARGARET E. BRUNER NOCTURNE by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR OBSERVATIONS IN THE ART OF ENGLISH POESY: THE WRITER TO HIS BOOK by THOMAS CAMPION |