AN END OF THE SUMMER.
Jupiter Pluvius,
Sluicer, full-spout,
Downpour diluvious,
Pumped on the Drought.
Checked, aloud crying,
The voice of the Swain;
The rootcrops be dying,
From long lack of rain!
Pluvius poured away,
While the wind blew;
Tonans, he roared away,
Hullaballoo,
Kicking up, dweller
In quarters on high,
He, Cloud Compeller;
The Czar of the sky.
Clouds, in convulsion,
Or calm, he keeps under;
Rules, by compulsion:
The reason of thunder.
So did he lately
Compel them to rise,
Piled up in stately
Array on the skies.
Castles aërial,
Splendid when falls,
Sheen on etherial
Vapoury halls,
Battlements, bartizans,
Phantoms of towers,
Fenced round with partisans;
Cloud-cauliflowers.
Mountainous forms
In the realms of felicity,
By Jove, to move storms,
Fraught with force—electricity,
They serve to betoken
What mortals may tell;
The weather is broken:
Summer, farewell!