Page:Etchings in Verse.djvu/22

The tree-tops waved, and shouted;
 The barren lowlands moaned;
The sweeping whirlwind shouted
 With a tumult thunder-toned.

And all the lands were leveled
 To a low and trackless plain—
  Lifeless, low, and burning;
Where the blighting breezes reveled,
 And the searching eye in vain
Looked for sign of shrub or flower
 O'er the desert's trackless face;
For of tree, and shrub and flower
 The whirlwind left no trace.

Then I gazed upon the heaven
 Where the reeling clouds still frowned—
  Glaring down in anger;
But the secret there engraven
 Deep within my soul was found;