Last night we had a thunderstorm in style. The wild lightning streaked the airs, As though my God fell down a pair of stairs. The thunder boomed and bounded all the while; All cried and sat by water-side and stile, ''" To mop our brow had been our chief of cares. I lay in bed with a Voltairean smile, The terror of good, simple guilty pairs, And made this rondeau in ironic style, Last night we had a thunderstorm in style. Our God the Father fell down-stairs, The stark blue lightning went its flight the while, The very rain you might have heard a mile, ''" The strenuous faithful buckled to their prayers. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HELEN OF TROY by SARA TEASDALE TRULY GREAT by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE SHADOW DANCE by LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON THE MAIMED DEBAUCHEE by JOHN WILMOT CIRCUS AT NIGHT by MADELEINE AARON THE ROBIN REDBREAST by MATHILDE BLIND DEDICATIONS AND INSCRIPTIONS: 11. TO EDWARD THOMAS, WITH A PLAY by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |