Trees may crash beneath a cyclone, Wild waves pound along the shore, Mountains shake to rock foundations, Lightnings flash and thunders roar; Still within Ed's bum proof celler Safe doth lie his treasure store Waiting for the days of travail When he shall unlock the door. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK: FIT 3. THE BAKER'S TALE by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON THE NINETEENTH OF APRIL, 1861 by LUCY LARCOM THE SURRENDER AT APPOMATTOX [APRIL 9, 1865] by HERMAN MELVILLE I AM THE PEOPLE, THE MOB by CARL SANDBURG THE LAST RAFT by JOSEPH V. ADAMS MODERN MANNERS by MARY (CUMBERLAND) ALCOCK SONNET: EGYPT by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |