At His appearance, vanished: dropsy, swol’n,
Withdrew his bloated form, and each confessed
A present God.
William Bolland.
When raging winds
Rushed from their caverns, and resistless swept
The foaming waves, when hideous roared the storm,
As if the wild contending elements
Had strove for mastery, at His command
The tempest ceased, the towering billows sunk