Poems (Sherwin)/The thunder storm
For works with similar titles, see The Thunder Storm.
THE THUNDER STORM.
E'er morning dawned I bent my wandering steps
To yonder rising hill, and gained its summit;
And thence, assisted by the approaching light,
With transport I beheld the beauteous earth,
Clothed in the gay luxurient garb of summer;
And high above, the glorious vault of heaven
Far as my ravished eyes could stretch their sight.
To yonder rising hill, and gained its summit;
And thence, assisted by the approaching light,
With transport I beheld the beauteous earth,
Clothed in the gay luxurient garb of summer;
And high above, the glorious vault of heaven
Far as my ravished eyes could stretch their sight.
The first awaking beams of rosy morn
Were gently stealing through the eastern sky,
And tinging with faint beams the scattered clouds
Till deeper dyed, and richly edged with gold,
They, gently opening, by degrees displayed
The glorious rising sun. Transfixed I stood
Intently gazing on the beauteous scene,
Until a voice, in gentle accents, stole
Upon my ear,—and soon three lovely forms
My wandering eyes arrested;—one, a female
Clad in the doleful garb of widowhood.
Though young and lovely, on her features dwelt
A look of sadness; but mild resignation
Gave to her pallid cheek, though sad—a smile.
A blooming child hung fondly on each arm—
A boy and girl, emblems of innocence,
Of health and happiness. A starting tear
Fell from the mother's eye whilst thus she spoke:—
"My dearest children let us here repose
"Our weaned limbs, and with meek gratitude
"To him, the ever good, who gave us life,
"Admire the scenes which his all-bounteous hand
"Hath spread before us. Blessed be his name!"
Were gently stealing through the eastern sky,
And tinging with faint beams the scattered clouds
Till deeper dyed, and richly edged with gold,
They, gently opening, by degrees displayed
The glorious rising sun. Transfixed I stood
Intently gazing on the beauteous scene,
Until a voice, in gentle accents, stole
Upon my ear,—and soon three lovely forms
My wandering eyes arrested;—one, a female
Clad in the doleful garb of widowhood.
Though young and lovely, on her features dwelt
A look of sadness; but mild resignation
Gave to her pallid cheek, though sad—a smile.
A blooming child hung fondly on each arm—
A boy and girl, emblems of innocence,
Of health and happiness. A starting tear
Fell from the mother's eye whilst thus she spoke:—
"My dearest children let us here repose
"Our weaned limbs, and with meek gratitude
"To him, the ever good, who gave us life,
"Admire the scenes which his all-bounteous hand
"Hath spread before us. Blessed be his name!"
"Yon village church, whose humble roof is seen
"Through the rich foliage of the trees around,
"Incloses, all the earth held dear to me,
"Save you,—the best of men, your sainted father;
"Be it ever yours to live as he has lived,
"To follow his example, and to trace
"His footsteps to eternal happiness.
"Oh, never will remembrance lose the sight
"Of those last looks, the sound of those last words,
"Which thus with faltering voice he gently breathe'
Father of mercy, to thy care I trust
"'My orphan children and my widowed wife!'
"He ceased—and, struggling with the pangs of death
"He looked—he clasped—I can no more—he Died!
"Through the rich foliage of the trees around,
"Incloses, all the earth held dear to me,
"Save you,—the best of men, your sainted father;
"Be it ever yours to live as he has lived,
"To follow his example, and to trace
"His footsteps to eternal happiness.
"Oh, never will remembrance lose the sight
"Of those last looks, the sound of those last words,
"Which thus with faltering voice he gently breathe'
Father of mercy, to thy care I trust
"'My orphan children and my widowed wife!'
"He ceased—and, struggling with the pangs of death
"He looked—he clasped—I can no more—he Died!
Here ceased the mourner, overwhelmed with tears
Of bitter grief. The children sobbed aloud,
And I, unconscious what I did, wept too,
Shedding fond tears of sympathizing sorrow.
Of bitter grief. The children sobbed aloud,
And I, unconscious what I did, wept too,
Shedding fond tears of sympathizing sorrow.
Long in this doleful reverie we remained,
Till roused at length as from a dream, we saw,
With wild astonishment, the azure sky,
But late so calm and beautifully clear,
O'ercast with clouds: the sunbeams had withdrawn,
And nature wore a face of gloominess,
Speaking, with signs of fear, a thunder-storm.
A fearful consternation reign around;
All viewed with silent dread heaven's angry brow;
And naught save the affrighted screech-owl's note
Was heard amid the calm, the death-like quiet.
The trembling flocks, impelled by shrinking fear,
Sought shelter 'neath the branches of the trees;
The birds, scared from their nests, flew swiftly on
To where a straggling sunbeam lingered still,
Still unextinguished. We alone remained
Unsheltered; knowing his almighty hand
Who rules the thunder could as well protect
Us here as in the deepest dungeon cave.
Till roused at length as from a dream, we saw,
With wild astonishment, the azure sky,
But late so calm and beautifully clear,
O'ercast with clouds: the sunbeams had withdrawn,
And nature wore a face of gloominess,
Speaking, with signs of fear, a thunder-storm.
A fearful consternation reign around;
All viewed with silent dread heaven's angry brow;
And naught save the affrighted screech-owl's note
Was heard amid the calm, the death-like quiet.
The trembling flocks, impelled by shrinking fear,
Sought shelter 'neath the branches of the trees;
The birds, scared from their nests, flew swiftly on
To where a straggling sunbeam lingered still,
Still unextinguished. We alone remained
Unsheltered; knowing his almighty hand
Who rules the thunder could as well protect
Us here as in the deepest dungeon cave.
Faintly at first the thunder's voice was heard
In distant murmur; and the pale lightning
Shot through the gathered clouds far in the west.
Nearer and nearer came the dreaded storm;
Louder and louder grew the clashing peals,
And brighter flashed the lightning's forked fire!
"What mortal pencil could portray the scene
At this dread moment? Frantic now with fear,
The widow clasped her children to her bosom,
Imploring heaven to shield them from the storm.
Meanwhile, in quick succession shot each flash
Of vivid fire from out the bursting clouds,
Rolling the thunder's deaf'ning peals around.
One dreadful flash of blue electric flame
Struck the ill-fated spot whereon we stood,
Tearing the children from the mother's arms,
And the uprooted earth beneath our feet.
For some short space of time my eyes were closed
Upon the passing scene; I knew no more
Until my slumbering senses slowly woke,
When, lo! the scene was changed,—the storm was past
A sight the most appaling met my eyes:
Near me, upon the mountain's broken side,
In death's most frightful form, lay cold and stiff,
The two sweet smiling cherubs who so late
With wonder and delight gazed on the sky,
And fearlessly surveyed th' approaching storm,
Unconscious of their doom; and near them lay
In death-like slumber, but with open eyes,
Glazed, and in frightful wild convulsive stare
Fixed on the torn dismembered corses,—
The widow, thus bereft of every hope,
Thus torn from all her earthly happiness.
With trembling arms I raised her from the ground,
And gently bore her from the scene of death.
Long did this lethargic, this heavy sleep,
Cast over all her woes a kindly veil
Of deep forgetfulness. She neither spoke nor moved,
But senseless lay till midnight hour came on,
When, as the clock told twelve she started up,
And, as awaking from a dream, she cried—
"Where are my children?" Then, as if a beam
Of recollection darted o'er her mind,
She said—"Did we not leave them on the mountain!
Oh, where! where are they? My dear lost children!
"Ah! there they are,—I see them smiling now!
They beckon me, and I must go." Again
She sank upon her pillow,—not as erst
To rise again; but surer came the sleep
Closing her eyes upon the world for ever.
In distant murmur; and the pale lightning
Shot through the gathered clouds far in the west.
Nearer and nearer came the dreaded storm;
Louder and louder grew the clashing peals,
And brighter flashed the lightning's forked fire!
"What mortal pencil could portray the scene
At this dread moment? Frantic now with fear,
The widow clasped her children to her bosom,
Imploring heaven to shield them from the storm.
Meanwhile, in quick succession shot each flash
Of vivid fire from out the bursting clouds,
Rolling the thunder's deaf'ning peals around.
One dreadful flash of blue electric flame
Struck the ill-fated spot whereon we stood,
Tearing the children from the mother's arms,
And the uprooted earth beneath our feet.
For some short space of time my eyes were closed
Upon the passing scene; I knew no more
Until my slumbering senses slowly woke,
When, lo! the scene was changed,—the storm was past
A sight the most appaling met my eyes:
Near me, upon the mountain's broken side,
In death's most frightful form, lay cold and stiff,
The two sweet smiling cherubs who so late
With wonder and delight gazed on the sky,
And fearlessly surveyed th' approaching storm,
Unconscious of their doom; and near them lay
In death-like slumber, but with open eyes,
Glazed, and in frightful wild convulsive stare
Fixed on the torn dismembered corses,—
The widow, thus bereft of every hope,
Thus torn from all her earthly happiness.
With trembling arms I raised her from the ground,
And gently bore her from the scene of death.
Long did this lethargic, this heavy sleep,
Cast over all her woes a kindly veil
Of deep forgetfulness. She neither spoke nor moved,
But senseless lay till midnight hour came on,
When, as the clock told twelve she started up,
And, as awaking from a dream, she cried—
"Where are my children?" Then, as if a beam
Of recollection darted o'er her mind,
She said—"Did we not leave them on the mountain!
Oh, where! where are they? My dear lost children!
"Ah! there they are,—I see them smiling now!
They beckon me, and I must go." Again
She sank upon her pillow,—not as erst
To rise again; but surer came the sleep
Closing her eyes upon the world for ever.