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Now, where the quick Rhone thus hath cleft his way,
The mightiest of the storms hath ta'en his stand:
For here, not one, but many, make their play,
And fling their thunderbolts from hand to hand,
Flashing and cast around: of all the band,

The brightest through these parted hills hath forked
His lightnings,—as if he did understand

That in such gaps as desolation worked,

There the hot shaft should blast whatever therein lurked.

BYRON.

MIDSUMMER NIGHT STORM ON THE PYRENEES

IS night, and all around is deadly still,
Save the far torrent sunk into a sigh,

And now the low wailing of the mountain-rill,

Through deepest solitude that wanders by.
Amid the wastes of darkness, soaring high,

The giant hills their midnight conclave hold
Far in the secret chambers of the sky,

With clouds and forest mantles round them rolled:
But hark! a heavy sound, as if a death-bell tolled!

Again, again, it breaks upon the gloom,
Fitful and far, like billows on the shore;
Anon, with voice like what shall wake the tomb,
At once it bursts into a boundless roar
Of fire and flood the mingled torrents pour
Down blazing comes, that red volcanoes seem :
Like rush of armies falls the thunder shower;
The mighty mountains leap amid the gleam,
And from his eyry soars the eagle with wild scream!

And as the thunder, swathed in purple pall,
Feals o'er sierra high and central vale,

A thousand echoes, starting at the call, Adown the darksome Roncesvalles sail, Till fancy hears upon the hollow gale Its phantom Knights above the battle plain Charge on the storm, that to a feeble wail Dies o'er the spectre-night: the thunders wane To murmurs down the skies, and all is hush'd again.

MALCOLM.

THE STORM.

MARK Vi. 47-51.

REAR was within the tossing bark,
When stormy winds grew loud;

And waves came rolling high and dark.
And the tall mast was bowed.

And men stood breathless in their dread,
And baffled in their skill;

But One was there, who rose and said
To the wild sea, "Be still!"

And the wind ceased-it ceased-that word
Passed through the gloomy sky:
The troubled billows knew their Lord,
And sank beneath his eye.

And slumber settled on the deep,
And silence on the blast,

As when the righteous falls asleep,
When death's fierce throes are past.

Thou that didst rule the angry hour,
And tame the tempest's mood,
O send thy Spirit forth in power,
O'er our dark souls to brood!

Thou that didst bow the billow's pride,

Thy mandates to fulfil

So speak to passion's raging tide,
Speak, and say, Peace, be still!"

MRS. HEMANS.

SHIPWRECK.

HEN a sound arose, they knew not where,— It came from the sea, or it came from the air; 'Twas louder than tempest that ever blew, And the sea fowl screamed, and in terror flew; Some ran to the cords, some kneeled at the shrine, But all the wild elements seemed to combine : 'Twas just but one moment of stir and commotion, And down went the ship like a bird of the ocean.

HOGG.

SHIPWRECK.

HEN rose from sea to sky the wild farewell;
Then shrieked the timid, and stood still the brave
Then some leaped overboard with dreadful yell,

As eager to anticipate their grave;

And the sea yawned around her like a hell,

And down she sucked with her the whirling wave, Like one who grapples with his enemy,

And strives to strangle him before he die.

And first one universal shriek there rushed,
Louder than the loud ocean, like a crash
Of echoing thunder; and then all was hushed
Save the wild wind, and the remorseless dash
Of billows; but at intervals there gushed,
Accompanied with a convulsive splash,

A solitary shriek, the bubbling cry
Of some strong swimmer in his agony.

BYRON.

SHIPWRECK.

ND now, lashed on by destiny severe,

With horror fraught the dreadful scene draws

near!

The ship hangs hovering on the verge of death,—
Hell yawns, rocks rise, and breakers roar beneath!
Uplifted on the surge, to heaven she flies,
Her shattered top half buried in the skies;
Then headlong plunging, thunders on the ground:
Earth groans, air trembles, and the deeps resound!
Her giant bulk the dread concussion feels,
And, quivering with the wound, in torment reels.
Again she plunges!-hark! a second shock
Tears her strong bottom on the marble rock!
Down on the vale of death, with dismal cries,
The fated victims shuddering roll their eyes
In wild despair, while yet another stroke,
With deep convulsions, rends the solid oak;
Till, like the mine, in whose infernal cell
The lurking demons of destruction dwell,
At length asunder torn, her frame divides,
And, crashing, spreads in ruin o'er the tides. —
As o'er the surge the bending mainmast hung,
Still on the rigging thirty seamen clung.
Some, struggling, on a broken crag were cast,
And there by oozy tangles grappled fast :
Awhile they bore the o'erwhelming billows' rage,
Unequal combat with their fate to wage ;
Till all benumbed and feeble they forego
Their slippery hold, and sink to shades below.
Some, from the main-yard-arm impetuous thrown
On marble ridges, die without a groan.
Three with Palemon on their skill depend,
And from the wreck on oars and rafts descend.
Now on the mountain-wave on high they ride,
Then downward plunge beneath the involving tide:

Till one, who seems in agony to strive,
The whirling breakers heave on shore alive.
The rest a speedier end of anguish knew,
And pressed the stony beach, a lifeless crew!

FALCONER.

SHIPWRECK.

3ER giant-form

O'er wrathful surge, through blackening storm,
Majestically calm, would go

'Mid the deep darkness: white as snow,
But gently now the small waves glide,
Like playful lambs o'er a mountain's side.
So stately her bearing, so proud her array,

The main she will traverse for ever and aye.

Many ports will exult at the gleam of her mast !—

Hush! hush! thou vain dreamer! this hour is her last.

Five hundred souls in one instant of dread

Are hurried o'er the deck;

And fast the miserable ship

Becomes a lifeless wreck.

Her keel hath struck on a hidden rock,

Her planks are torn asunder,

And down come her masts with a reeling shock,

And a hideous crash like thunder.

Her sails are draggled in the brine,

That gladdened late the skies;

And her pendant that kissed the fair moonshine

Down many a fathom lies.

Her beauteous sides, whose radiant hues

Gleamed softly from below,

And flung a warm and sunny flush

O'er the wreaths of murmuring snow,
To the coral rocks are hurrying down,
To sleep amid colours as bright as their own.
Oh! many a dream was in the ship

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