And winds that bluster loud.
Terrific was his angry look,
His pendent eyebrows frown’d;
Thrice in his hand he waved a book,
Then dashed it to the ground.
“Behold,” he cry’d “perfidious man!
This object of my rage:
Bethink thee of the sordid plan
That form’d this venal page.
“Was it to make this base record