Lo, now the dead volcano Night In silence cold Throbs; and the prisoned lava, long controlled, Bursts forth in molten gold -- A torrent mightier far than rolled From Aetna or Vesuvius of old, Or ever prophet on the sacred height Of song foretold. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE ON MELANCHOLY by JOHN KEATS REMEMBER OR FORGET by C. HAMILTON AIDE PSALM 21. DOMINE IN VIRTUTE by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE SERAPHIM by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING ST. MARTIN'S SUMMER by ROBERT BROWNING FOURTH BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 1. A LITTLE BREATH I'LL BORROW by THOMAS CAMPION |