Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE MOONLIGHT STORM, by CARROLL RYAN


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE MOONLIGHT STORM, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: A lovely night! Serenely clear the sky
Last Line: For I'm akin to it—our spirits are the same.
Alternate Author Name(s): Ryan, William Thomas Carroll
Subject(s): Storms; Weather


A lovely night! Serenely clear the sky
Spreads its broad arch of blue filled by the light
Of the wan moon which, floating far on high,
Looks calmly down—the silent queen of night.
The sportive zephyrs, kissing in their flight
Thy pure white brow, dear Mary, seem to sigh
A prayer of love, and linger with delight
Around our bower when thy dear form is nigh,
As if they fain would bear thee with them as they fly.

But see, my love, upon the fancied bound
Where earth and sky are met, a gloomy cloud
Ascending slowly until far around
Lies 'neath the shadow of the stormy shroud.
Yon sheet of flame, how grand, how wildly proud,
It clove the blackness with a livid tongue.
And now the thunders hoarsely roar aloud,
Still wilder are the forked lightnings flung,
Which seem to madly sport the distant hills among.

See raised on high, like a triumphal arch
Based on the mountains that o'erlook the vale,
A spirit rainbow gleaming o'er the march
Of elemental armies, while the gale,
Eager the woods and mountains to assail,
Bears them right onward on his rushing wings,
Each flying cohort clad in cloudy mail
With an exultant swiftness wildly sings,
While chaos black behind the whole its shadow flings.

Still the sweet moon upon us sadly pours
Her light as yet unshaded by the gloom
Of yonder cloud from whose black centre roars
The living thunder as from out its womb
Springs each wild flash with every deaf'ning boom.
The hissing deluge comes. Where shalt thou fly,
My frightened dove, to 'scape the coming doom?
No shelter! none! Come to this bosom, I
Will shield my own dear love from heaven's angry sky!

Peal, ye wild thunders! Leap ye lightnings down!
Ye wrathy elements your force combine,
Till trembling earth lies prone beneath your frown.
I reck not for your wrath while Mary's mine!
O! let me stand like yonder riven pine
Round whose bare head the lurid lightnings flame,
And 'bout its arms, like fiery serpents, twine—
Let me a part of this wild storm exclaim,
For I'm akin to it—our spirits are the same.





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