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The storm is master. Man, as a ball, is tossed twixt winds and
billows.
[Ger., Der Sturm ist read more
The storm is master. Man, as a ball, is tossed twixt winds and
billows.
[Ger., Der Sturm ist Meister; Wind und Well spielen
Ball mit dem Menschen.]
Why, now blow wind, swell billow, and swim bark!
The storm is up, and all is on the hazard.
Why, now blow wind, swell billow, and swim bark!
The storm is up, and all is on the hazard.
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!
Merciful heaven,
Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt
Splits the unwedgeable and gnarled oak
read more
Merciful heaven,
Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt
Splits the unwedgeable and gnarled oak
Than the soft myrtle; but man, proud man,
Dressed in a little brief authority,
Most ignorant of what he's most assured
His glassy essence--like an angry ape
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven
As makes the angels weep; who, with our spleens,
would all themselves laugh mortal.
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.
O Cicero,
I have seen tempests when the scolding winds
Have rived the knotty oaks, and I read more
O Cicero,
I have seen tempests when the scolding winds
Have rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen
Th' ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam
To be exalted with the threat'ning clouds;
But never till to-night, never till now,
Did I go through a tempest dropping fire.
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!"
Methinks I am a prophet new inspired
And thus, expiring, do foretell of him:
His rash fierce read more
Methinks I am a prophet new inspired
And thus, expiring, do foretell of him:
His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last,
For violent fires soon burn out themselves;
Small show'rs last long, but sudden storms are short;
He tires betimes that spurs too fast betimes;
With eager feeding doth choke the feeder;
Light vanity, insatiate cormorant,
Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.