A STORM.

(HE sun went down in beauty; not a cloud
Darkened its radiance,—yet there might be seen
A few fantastic vapours scattered o'er

The face of the blue heavens; some fair and slight
As the pure lawn that shields the maiden's breast, —
Some shone like silver,-some did stream afar,

Faint and dispersed, like the pale horse's mane,
Which Death shall stride hereafter,- —some were glittering
Like dolphin scales, touched out with varying hues
Of beautiful light-outvying some the rose,
And some the violet, yellow, white, and blue,
Scarlet and purpling red.—One small lone ship
Was seen with outstretched sails, keeping its way
In quiet o'er the deep: all nature seemed
Fond of tranquillity; the glassy sea
Scarce rippled-the halcyon slept upon the wave;
The winds were all at rest,—and in the east
The crescent moon, then seen imperfectly,
Came onwards with the vesper star, to see
A summer day's decline.—

The sun went down in beauty; but the eyes
Of ancient seamen trembled, when they saw
A small black ominous spot far in the distance :-
It spread, and spread-larger and dark—and came
O'ershadowing the skies ;-the ocean rose;

The gathering waves grew large, and broke in hoarse
And hollow sounds: the mighty winds awoke,
And screamed and whistled through the cordage; birds,
That seemed to have no home, flocked there in terror,
And sat with quivering plumage on the mast;

Flashes were seen, and distant sounds were heard—
Presages of a Storm.-

The Sun went down in beauty!—but the skies
Were wildly changed.—It was a dreadful night--
No moon was seen in all the heavens to aid

Or cheer the lone and sea-beat mariner:-
Planet nor guiding star broke through the gloom ;--
But the blue lightnings glared along the waters,
As if the Fiend had fired his torch to light

Some wretches to their graves.-The tempest winds
Raving came next, and in deep hollow sounds--
Like those the spirits of the dead do use

When they would speak their evil prophecies-
Muttered of death to come; then came the thunder,
Deepening and crashing, as 'twould rend the world;
Or, as the Deity passed aloft in anger

And spoke to man-despair!—The ship was tossed,
And now stood poised upon the curling billows,
And now 'midst deep and watery chasms-that yawned
As 'twere in hunger-sank.—Behind there came
Mountains of moving water,-with a rush
And sound of gathering power, that did appal
The heart to look on: terrible cries were heard;
Sounds of despair,—some like a mother's anguish—
Some of intemperate, dark, and dissolute joy-
Music and horrid mirth, but unallied

To joy; and madness might be heard amidst
The pauses of the Storm-and when the glare
Was strong, rude savage men were seen to dance
In frantic exultation on the deck,

Though all was hopeless.-Hark! the ship is struck,
And the forked lightning seeks the arsenal!
'Tis fired, and mirth and madness are no more!
'Midst columned smoke, deep red, the fragments fly
In fierce confusion-splinters, and scorched limbs,
And burning masts, and showers of gold,—torn from
The heart that hugged it even till death. Thus doth
Sicilian Etna in her angry moods,

Or Hecla 'mid her wilderness of snows,
Shoot up its burning entrails with a sound
Louder than e'er the Titans uttered from
Their subterranean caves, when Jove enchained
Them, daring and rebellious. The black skies,

Shocked at the excess of light, returned the sound
In frightful echoes, as if an alarm

Had spread through all the elements: then came
A horrid silence-deep-unnatural-like
The quiet of the grave.

ANON.

MIDSUMMER NIGHT STORM ON THE LAKE OF

GENEVA.

HE sky is changed! and such a change! O night,
And storm and darkness, ye are wondrous strong,
Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light

Of a dark eye in woman! Far along,
From peak to peak, the rattling crags among
Leaps the live thunder! not from one lone cloud,
But every mountain now hath found a tongue,
And Jura answers through her misty shroud,
Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud.
And this is in the night:—most glorious night!
Thou wert not sent for slumber! let me be
A sharer in thy fierce and far delight,—
A portion of the tempest and of thee!
How the lit lake shines, a phosphoric sea,
And the big rain comes dancing to the earth!
And now again 'tis black, and now the glee
Of the loud hill shakes with its mountain-mirth,
As if they did rejoice o'er a young earthquake's birth.

Now where the swift Rhone cleaves his way between
Heights which appear as lovers who have parted
In hate, whose mining depths so intervene,
That they can meet no more, though broken-hearted!
Though in their souls, which thus each other thwarted,
Love was the very root of the fond rage

Which blighted their life's bloom and then departed:
Itself expired, but leaving them an age

Of years all winters, war within themselves to wage:—