Thus the storm, like some wild monster,
Who is fighting for its prey,
Raged until it sank exhausted,
Then its fury died away.
Who is fighting for its prey,
Raged until it sank exhausted,
Then its fury died away.
And a breathless calm as solemn
As the silence of remorse,
Fell upon the woeful wreckage
It had scattered in its course.
As the silence of remorse,
Fell upon the woeful wreckage
It had scattered in its course.
47
