SO lone I stood, the very trees seemed drawn In conference with themselves. -- Intense -- intense Seemed everything; -- the summer splendor on The sight, -- magnificence! A babe's life might not lighter fail and die Than failed the sunlight. -- Though the hour was noon, The palm of midnight might not lighter lie Upon the brow of June. With eyes upraised, I saw the underwings Of swallows -- gone the instant afterward -- While from the elms there came strange twitterings, Stilled scarce ere they were heard. The river seemed to shiver; and, far down Its darkened length, I saw the sycamores Lean inward closer, under the vast frown That weighed above the shores. Then was a roar, born of some awful burst! . . . And one lay, shrieking, chattering, in my path -- Flung -- he or I -- out of some space accurst As of Jehovah's wrath: Nor barely had he wreaked his latest prayer, Ere back the noon flashed o'er the ruin done, And, o'er uprooted forests tousled there, The birds sang in the sun. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HATCHING; FOR DAW AUNG SAN SUU KYI by KAREN SWENSON A FRAGMENT FROM THE AGAMEMNON OF AESCHYLOS by AESCHYLUS RODGERSON'S DOUG by WILLIAM AITKEN EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 23. SOONER WOUNDED THAN CURED by PHILIP AYRES THE PUPPETS by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 29 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE SUPREME GIFT by DAISY DEAN BUTLER ANSWER TO A BEAUTIFUL POEM ENTITLED 'THE COMMON LOT' by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |