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At first, heard solemn o'er the verge of Heaven,
The Tempest growls; but as it nearer comes,
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At first, heard solemn o'er the verge of Heaven,
The Tempest growls; but as it nearer comes,
And rolls its awful burden on the wind,
The Lightnings flash a larger curve, and more
The Noise astounds; till overhead a sheet
Of livid flame discloses wide, then shuts,
And opens wider; shuts and opens still
Expansive, wrapping ether in a blaze.
Follows the loosen'd aggravated Roar,
Enlarging, deepening, mingling, peal on peal,
Crush'd, horrible, convulsing Heaven and Earth.
As far as could ken thy chalky cliffs,
When from thy shore the tempest beat us back,
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As far as could ken thy chalky cliffs,
When from thy shore the tempest beat us back,
I stood upon the hatches in the storm,
And when the dusky sky began to rob
My earnest-gaping sight of thy land's view,
I took a costly jewel from my neck,
A heart it was, bound in with diamonds,
And threw it toward thy land.
I have heard a greater storm in a boiling pot.
I have heard a greater storm in a boiling pot.
It is a tempest in a tumbler of water.
[Fr., C'est une tempete dans un verre d'eau.]
It is a tempest in a tumbler of water.
[Fr., C'est une tempete dans un verre d'eau.]
Lightnings, that show the vast and foamy deep,
The rending thunders, as they onward roll,
The loud read more
Lightnings, that show the vast and foamy deep,
The rending thunders, as they onward roll,
The loud winds, that o'er the billows sweep--
Shake the firm nerve, appal the bravest soul!
Your chances of getting struck by lightning go up if you stand under a tree, shake your fist at the read more
Your chances of getting struck by lightning go up if you stand under a tree, shake your fist at the sky, and say "Storms suck!"
Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks. Rage, blow,
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drenched read more
Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks. Rage, blow,
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drenched our steeples, downed the cocks.
Roads are wet where'er one wendeth,
And with rain the thistle bendeth,
And the brook cries like read more
Roads are wet where'er one wendeth,
And with rain the thistle bendeth,
And the brook cries like a child!
Not a rainbow shines to cheer us;
Ah! the sun comes never near us,
And the heavens look dark and wile.