Classic and Contemporary Poetry
STANZAS COMPOSED DURING A THUNDERSTORM, by GEORGE GORDON BYRON Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Chill and mirk is the nightly blast Last Line: And mourns in search of thine. Alternate Author Name(s): Byron, Lord; Byron, 6th Baron Subject(s): Storms | ||||||||
CHILL and mirk is the nightly blast, Where Pindus' mountains rise, And angry clouds are pouring fast The vengeance of the skies. Our guides are gone, our hope is lost, And lightnings, as they play, But show where rocks our paths have crost, Or gild the torrent's spray. Is yon a cot I saw, though low? When lightning broke the gloom -- How welcome were its shade! -- ah, no! 'T is but a Turkish tomb. Through sounds of foaming waterfalls, I hear a voice exclaim -- My way-worn countryman, who calls On distant England's name. A shot is fired -- by foe or friend? Another -- 't is to tell The mountain-peasants to descend, And lead us where they dwell. Oh! who in such a night will dare To tempt the wilderness? And who 'mid thunder peals can hear Our signal of distress? And who that heard our shouts would rise To try the dubious road; Nor rather deem from nightly cries That outlaws were abroad? Clouds burst, skies flash, oh, dreadful hour. More fiercely pours the storm! Yet here one thought has still the power To keep my bosom warm. While wand'ring through each broken path O'er brake and craggy brow; While elements exhaust their wrath, Sweet Florence, where art thou? Not on the sea, not on the sea, Thy bark hath long been gone: Oh, may the storm that pours on me, Bow down my head alone! Full swiftly blew the swift Siroc, When last I press'd thy lip; And long ere now, with foaming shock, Impell'd thy gallant ship. Now thou art safe; nay, long ere now Hast trod the shore of Spain; 'T were hard if aught so fair as thou Should linger on the main. And since I now remember thee In darkness and in dread, As in those hours of revelry Which mirth and music sped; Do thou, amid the fair white walls, If Cadiz yet be free, At times from out her latticed halls Look o'er the dark blue sea; Then think upon Calypso's isles, Endear'd by days gone by; To others give a thousand smiles, To me a single sigh. And when the admiring circle mark The paleness of thy face, A half-form'd tear, a transient spark Of melancholy grace, Again thou 'lt smile, and blushing shun Some coxcomb's raillery; Nor own for once thou thought'st on one, Who ever thinks on thee. Though smile and sigh alike are vain, When sever'd hearts repine, My spirit flies o'er mount and main, And mourns in search of thine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STORM AT HOPTIME by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THERE IS A SOLEMN WIND TONIGHT by KATHERINE MANSFIELD DEWEY AND DANCER by JOSEPHINE MILES MICHAEL IS AFRAID OF THE STORM by GWENDOLYN BROOKS BREACHING THE ROCK by MADELINE DEFREES THE CLOUDS ABOVE THE OCEAN by STEPHEN DOBYNS OF POLITICS, & ART by NORMAN DUBIE TREMENDOUS WIND AND RAIN by ANSELM HOLLO ALL IS VANITY, SAITH THE PREACHER' by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |
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