XV.
But suddenly the mystic spell
That bound him to the Past was rent;
The vivid lightning, forked and red,
Flashed through the broken casement, blent
With the loud thunder's awful roar,
Prolonged and echoing o'er and o'er.
The warring of the world without
Offended not the struggling heart;
Roused from the apathy of thought
He sought the casement with a start,
And watched the raging storm sweep by
With kindling cheek and flashing eye.