THE Thunder came not with one awful pulse, When the wide Heaven seems quaking to its heart, But in a current of tumultuous noise, Crash upon crash, -- a multitudinous clang Of cymbals beating in the low-hung clouds, -- And every shortest interspace filled up With echoes vivid as their parent sounds. The lightning came not in one flash of light, Soon yielding to the darkness, (which ere long Is routed by another winged blaze,) But with no pause, and swaying to and fro, As if the common air was turned to flame. So mused I, from this hot and furious scene Drawing a timely lesson of calm Truth, So, -- when great nations are awake at heart, And rise embattled, from an ancient sleep Sudden aroused by some consummate deed Of reckless tyranny, or glad to stand For heir-loom rights, familiar liberties, Through pain and loss and terror, unto death, -- Should be the expression of their energies, -- Earnest, intense, impassioned as you will, But with no pause; the fruit is Victory. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OLD BLACK MEN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ZION, OR THE CITY OF GOD by JOHN NEWTON DAFFODILS by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE MACGREGOR'S GATHERING by WALTER SCOTT HENDECASYLLABICS by ALFRED TENNYSON SHEEP AND LAMBS by KATHARINE TYNAN |