His passing breath, where hangs the fate of kings
And mighty nations, kindled up the sky,
And lightened o’er a terror-stricken world.
Noontide poured down upon the sleeping earth
And dreaming waves a long and fervid kiss
Of panting passion, and the Orient’s heart
Glowed in its languid atmosphere of love.
The storm, the earthquake, and the flashing fire.
Had left it placid as the orbéd brow
Of slumbering Beauty—through the fragrant air