Imágenes de páginas

Mixed with the clash of the lashing rain,
Hurried on by the might of the hurricane:
The hurricane came from the west, and past on
By the path of the gate of the eastern sun,
Transversely dividing the stream of the storm;
As an arrowy serpent, pursuing the form
Of an elephant, bursts through the brakes of the

Black as a cormorant the screaming blast,
Between ocean and heaven, like an ocean, past,
Till it came to the clouds on the verge of the

Which, based on the sea and to heaven upcurled, Like columns and walls did surround and sustain The dome of the tempest; it rent them in twain, As a flood rends its barriers of mountainous crag; And the dense clouds in many a ruin and rag, Like the stones of a temple ere earthquake has past,

Like the dust of its fall, on the whirlwind are cast;

They are scattered like foam on the torrent; and where

The wind has burst out through the chasm, from the air

Of clear morning, the beams of the sunrise flow in,

Unimpeded, keen, golden, and crystalline, Banded armies of light and of air; at one gate They encounter, but interpenetrate.

And tbat breach in the tempest is widening away,
And the caverns of cloud are torn up by the day,
And the fierce winds are sinking with weary

Lulled by the motion and murmurings
And the long glassy heave of the rocking sea,
And over head glorious, but dreadful to see,
The wrecks of the tempest, like vapours of gold,
Are consuming in sunrise. The heaped waves

The deep calm of blue heaven dilating above,
And, like passions made still by the presence of

Beneath the clear surface reflecting it slide Tremulous with soft influence; extending its tide

From the Andes to Atlas, round mountain and


Round sea-birds and wrecks, paved with heaven's

azure smile, The wide world of waters is vibrating.


Is the ship? On the verge of the wave where it lay

C*ne tiger is mingled in ghastly affray With a sea-snake. The foam and the smoke of the battle

Stain the clear air with sunbows. The jar,and the rattle

Of solid bones crushed by the infinite stress
Of the snake's adamantine voluminousness;
And the hum of the hot blood that spouts and

Where the gripe of the tiger has wounded the veins

Swollen with rage, strength, and effort; the whirl

and the splash As of some hideous engine whose brazen teeth


The thin winds and soft waves into thunder; the screams

And hissings, crawl fast o'er the smooth ocean, streams,

Each sound like a centiped. Near this commotion,

A blue shark is hanging within the blue ocean,
The fin-winged tomb of the victor. The other
Is winning his way from the fate of his brother,
To his own with the speed of despair. Lo! a

Advances; twelve rowers with the impulse of thought

Urge on the keen keel, the brine foams. At the stern

Three marksmen stand levelling. Hot bullets burn

In the breast of the tiger, which yet bears him on To his refuge and ruin. One fragment alone, Tis dwindling and sinking, 'tis now almost gone, Of the wreck of the vessel peers out of the sea. With her left hand she grasps it impetuously, With her right she sustains her fair infant.

Death, Fear, Love, Beauty, are mixed in the atmosphere; Which trembles and burns with the fervour of


Around her wild eyes, her bright hand, and her head.

Like a meteor of light o'er the waters 1 her child. Is yet smiling, and playing, and murmuring: so smiled

The false deep ere the storm. Like a sister and brother

The child and the ocean still smile on each other Whilst


The fountains mingle with the river

And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of heaven mix for ever

With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;

All things by a law divine
In one another's being mingle:

Why not I with thine?

See the mountains kiss high heaven,

And the waves clasp one another;
No sister flower would be forgiven

If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,

And the moonbeams kiss the sea:
What are all these kissings worth,

If thou kiss not me?



I Bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,

From the seas and the streams;
I bear light shades for the leaves when laid

In their noon-day dreams.
From my wings are shaken the dews that waken

The sweet buds every one,
When rocked to rest on their mother's breast,

As she dances about the sun.
I wield the flail of the lashing hail,

And whiten the green plains under,
And then again I dissolve it in rain,

And laugh as I pass in thunder.


[ sift the snow on the mountains below, And their great pines groan aghast;

« AnteriorContinuar »