EVEN such the contrast that, where'er we move, To the mind's eye Religion doth present; Now with her own deep quietness content; Then, like the mountain, thundering from above Against the ancient pine-trees of the grove And the Land's humblest comforts. Now her mood Recalls the transformation of the flood, Whose rage the gentle skies in vain reprove; Earth cannot check. O terrible excess Of headstrong will! Can this be Piety? No -- some fierce Maniac hath usurped her name; And scourges England struggling to be free: Her peace destroyed! her hopes a wilderness! Her blessings cursed -- her glory turned to shame! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WALT WHITMAN by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON SONG: 4 by EDWARD ESTLIN CUMMINGS SPEAKIN' O' CHRISTMAS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR GREEK SONG: 1. THE STORM OF DELPHI by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS MARIPOSA by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY FAREWELL TO CYNTHIA by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |