The Thunder Storm

Albery Allson Whitman

 Next Poem          

Lo! how the Heavens ponder now,
They look so still and moody!
And every leaf, and every bough,
Are in a dark deep study.


The very air has hushed its breath,
And pauses in its hushing,
To hear the clouds that still as death,
Are out of darkness rushing.


The lightnings in their vivid wrath,
The waving hills a starting,
Deep thro' the cloud-sea cleave a path,
From shore to shore a darting.


Loud thunders roll within the flood,
And night peers on with wonder,
And seems to sigh, in pensive mood,
And whisper, "hear it thunder!"


Again the thunders shriek aloud,
Far o'er the distance roaring,
And now from every breaking cloud,
The sluicy floods are pouring.


Upon the roof, the dancing drops
Come down with splash and clatter,
The lightnings glare, their music stops --
Now louder 'gins to patter;


As if to catch its breath, the rain
Were, when it thundered, pausing,
Then rushing on to make again
The time it had been losing.

Next Poem 

 Back to Albery Allson Whitman
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry and subscribe to My Poetic Side ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors Weekly news

To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.