BUT yesterday this brook was bright, And tranquil as the clear moonlight, That wooes the palms on Orient shores, But now, a hoarse, dark stream, it pours Impetuous o'er its bed of rock, And almost with a thunder-shock Boils into eddies, fierce and fleet, That dash the white foam round our feet, A raging whirl of waters, rent As if with angry discontent! A tempest in the night swept by, Born of a murk and fiery sky, And while the solid woodlands shook, It wreaked its fury on the brook. The evil genius of the blast Within its quiet bosom passed, And therefore this transfigured tide, Which used as lovingly to glide As thought through spirits sanctified, Rolls now a whirl of waters, rent As if with angry discontent. I knew, of late, a creature, bright And gentle as the clear moonlight, The tenderest and the kindest heart That ever played Love's selfless part, Across whose unperturbed life, A sudden passion swept, in strife, With wild, unhallowed forces rife. It stirred her nature's inmost deep, That nevermore shall rest or sleep, Remorse, its rugged bed of rock, O'er which for aye, with thunder-shock, The tides of feeling, fierce and fleet, Are dashed to foam or icy sleet, A raging whirl of waters, rent By something worse than discontent! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SOUND OF THE SEA; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW LAVENDER'S BLUE (1) by MOTHER GOOSE FOR MY OWN TOMBSTONE by MATTHEW PRIOR THE TRANCE by LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE A CRADLE SONG OF THE NIGHT WIND by WILLIS BOYD ALLEN HOW THE WINNING FOUR WEST HOME by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |