“Swept now amain those turbid waters o’er
A tumult of a dread portentous kind,
Which rocked with sudden spasms each trembling shore,
Like the mad rushing of a rapid wind;
As when, made furious by opposing heats,
Wild through the wood the unbridled tempest scours,
Dusty and proud, the cringing forest beats,
And scatters far the broken limbs and flowers;
Then fly the herds,—the swains to shelter scud.
Freeing mine eyes, ‘Thy sight,’ he said, ‘direct