Cloud-chaos surges o'er a crest sublime,
That seems forked lightning spell-bound into stone;
Abruptly steep flame-pointed precipices,
Dark as the night, dissolve to opaline
In phantom foldings of circumfluent sea.
Their natures blend confused; the mists assume
A semblance of impenetrable rock;
Stern rock relents to luminous faint cloud.
Their banners rent as in uproarious war,
Behold! the vaporous battalions
Unclose, dispelled and routed of loud winds,
That drive them scared, and scattered; so Jehovah
Clove that astounded sea for Israel.
Yonder beneath me, the enormous crag
Reveals, between grey ghostly robes of them,
Solid, and rude, and perpendicular,
A mighty front of Titans grandly piled,
Umber, and gory red, and pallid green,
Reared in some alien world beyond the cloud,
Stronghold stupendous of immortal gods.
Page:Roden Noel - A Little Child's Monument - 1881.pdf/38
In the Corsican Highlands.
