XVII
When dark above the earth the piling clouds clash
Like raging hosts of Satan in array,
Their shields with thunder peal and fiery swords flash,
Then forth on high my fettered hands I lay:
Rise up, O Storm, in all your horror and might,
The elements’ eternal rage awake!
Let earth be tumbled down in ruin, fire, night;
The sea and rivers’ floods the lowlands take!
Whate’er our master’s is, destroy speedily,
Tear soil with waves, the meads to wastes condemn,
Shake blossom from its branch and fruit from palm tree,
Break, fell, disroot with might each graceful stem!
Burst high his golden dome with muffled pealings,
Consume the master’s stately home with fire,
With raining gravel of his marble ceilings
Crush low the tyrant and his hosts of hire!
May foe with wrathful elements too unite,
And round with steel and fire-brand rage and rend,
Let be who will, success attend still his fight:
Our lord’s assassin then will be our friend!