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Could it seem Woman's emblem; so her light Should shine 'mid darkness, and her loveliness Cheer the dull hour of gloom:—e'en that is past, A cloud like death came over it, and quench'd Its tender beam; at once the storm pour'd forth Its cup of fury, and the blasts arose, Sweeping among the mountains with a sound Of anger and of anguish, laughter, groans, And shrieks as if of torture, and deep sobs Mingled together; and at times the voice Of thunder spake in wrath; and crashing woods, Fierce gusts, and echoing caves, dread answers gave. The Spirit of the lightning fiercely roll'd His eyes of fire athwart the sky, and rent The veil of blackness with his burning glance. Dark lower'd the fearful night, but onwards still The traveller urg'd his course; there was no light To point the gloomy path, save when a flash