Whispering to weary mortals soft and sorrow-soothing dreams.
Oh! surely, eye of mortal never gazed on fairer scene,
Than there lay sweetly dreaming in that loveliness and sheen:—
But what is darkening yonder? and hark! that distant sound,
That comes like ghostly mutters faintly o'er the echoing ground.
And now that lightning flashes, like sulphureous light of Hell,
And now the winds come rushing o'er the far off wood and fell.
That cloud grows quickly larger, and the lightning flashing more—
Hark! Earth and Heaven are rocking in a consentaneous roar!
And heavily the deluge floods the hills, the vales, the streams,