WORLD, art thou 'ware of a storm? Hark to the ominous sound; How the far-off gales their battle form, And the great sea-swells feel ground! It comes, the Typhoon of Death -- Nearer and nearer it comes! The horizon thunder of cannon-breath And the roar of angry drums! Hurtle, Terror sublime! Swoop o'er the Land to-day -- So the mist of wrong and crime, The breath of our Evil Time Be swept, as by fire, away! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONG, FR. ERNEST MALTRAVERS by EDWARD GEORGE EARLE LYTTON BULWER-LYTTON THE PLOUGHER [OR PLOWER] by PADRAIC COLUM WHEN SHE COMES HOME by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY THE WORMS AT HEAVEN'S GATE by WALLACE STEVENS WELCOME, LITTLE STRANGER (BY A DISPLACED THREE-YEAR-OLD) by CHARLES FOLLEN ADAMS EPIGRAM by DECIMUS MAGNUS AUSONIUS |