This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.

92

But see! across that arch of light
The snow-white clouds flit fast;
Like heralds of the coming fight,
They ride upon the blast.

Oh! strange it is, when all around
Is calmly bright and fair,
To hear that fierce, unearthly sound
Rush wildly on the air;
To see the whirling leaves in showers
Untimely strew the earth,
While not a breath disturbs the flowers
Which there have lowly birth.

Rush on, ye stormy winds! rush on
Beneath the deep blue sky!
I love to hear that thrilling tone
In melody sweep by.
Sing round the mountains in your mirth,
Float o'er the hills with glee;
Breathe o'er the lowly plains of earth,
And dance upon the sea!

The sea! I thought not on the sea.
Ye tempests, cease to rave,
Or though on earth your home may be,
Yet breathe not on the wave.
Oh! rouse not from their giant sleep
The billows and the surge,
Or that storm may sound across the deep,
Full many a seaman's dirge.