A POEM.
63
No pearly dews refresh the labouring ground;
Dry are the leaves, and parched the herbs around;
The tender flowers soft languish or expire,
And crackling stalks reproach the scorching fire;
The tuneful birds suppress the cheerful lay, 620
And to hoarse grashoppers resign the day;
While at each opening pore, the panting earth,
Labouring with heat, breathes steaming vapours forth.
Heaven's beauteous face a dismal darkness shrouds,
And black descends a solid arch of clouds.
The flocks forsake the fields in flowery pride,
The silent birds in leafy coverts hide;
The whispering winds are hushed, and dumb the flood,
While nature faints before the frown of God.
Terrific broods the gloom o'er boding earth, 630
And swift the red-winged lightnings issue forth:
Hoarse thunders far through heaven's wide regions roll,
And crashing fragors burst from pole to pole:
Heaven opening, glares at once: A boundless glow
Of forked lightning floods the world below.
It opes; it shuts; 'tis night and day by turns;
Still thunders deepen; ether redder burns;
Till all the struggling storms their prisons rend,
And all at once the rushing clouds descend;
Dry are the leaves, and parched the herbs around;
The tender flowers soft languish or expire,
And crackling stalks reproach the scorching fire;
The tuneful birds suppress the cheerful lay, 620
And to hoarse grashoppers resign the day;
While at each opening pore, the panting earth,
Labouring with heat, breathes steaming vapours forth.
Heaven's beauteous face a dismal darkness shrouds,
And black descends a solid arch of clouds.
The flocks forsake the fields in flowery pride,
The silent birds in leafy coverts hide;
The whispering winds are hushed, and dumb the flood,
While nature faints before the frown of God.
Terrific broods the gloom o'er boding earth, 630
And swift the red-winged lightnings issue forth:
Hoarse thunders far through heaven's wide regions roll,
And crashing fragors burst from pole to pole:
Heaven opening, glares at once: A boundless glow
Of forked lightning floods the world below.
It opes; it shuts; 'tis night and day by turns;
Still thunders deepen; ether redder burns;
Till all the struggling storms their prisons rend,
And all at once the rushing clouds descend;
