Passions wild and powers insane,
And thoughts with vulture beak, and quick Promethean pain!
Gloomy—gloomy is the day;
Tortured, tempest-tost the night;
Fevers that no founts allay—
Wild and wildering unrest—
Blessings festering into blight—
A gored and gasping breast!
From their lairs what terrors start,
At that deep earthquake voice—the earthquake of the heart!