Then darkness gathered round it, like the deep,
Black jaws of cold annihilation.
It came—it vanished—and “the Lord was not”
Throned high upon the earthquake’s blasting rage;
But, at the echo of His chariot wheels,
The iron land tossed like the ocean waves,
And mountains dashed aloft their crested heads
As surging billows flout a stormy sky.
The air was stagnant, cold, and dark, and dull,
Heavy as morn to aching senses, when