Warm was the gale, and such as travellers say
Sport with the winds on Zaara's barren waste;
Black was the sky, a mourning carpet spread,415
Its azure blotted, and its stars o'ercast!
105
Lights in the air like burning stars were hurl'd,
Dogs howl'd, heaven mutter'd, and the tempest blew,
The red half-moon peeped from behind a cloud
As if in dread the amazing scene to view.420
106
The mournful trees that in the garden stood
Bent to the tempest as it rush'd along,
The elm, the myrtle, and the cypress sad
More melancholy tun'd its bellowing song.
107
No more that elm its noble branches spread,425
The yew, the cypress, or the myrtle tree,
Rent from the roots the tempest tore them down,
And all the grove in wild confusion lay.
108
Yet, mindful of his dread command, I part
Glad from the magic dome—nor found relief;430
Damps from the dead hung heavier round my heart,
While sad remembrance rous'd her stores of grief.
109