Page:Songs of the Springtides - Swinburne (1880).pdf/126

 Of pity and mercy wrought themselves a rod, And opened for Napoleon's wandering kin France, and bade enter in, And threw for all the doors of refuge wide, Took to them lightning in the thunder-tide.

For storm on earth above had risen from under, Out of the hollow of hell, Such storm as never fell From darkest deeps of heaven distract with thunder; A cloud of cursing, past all shape of thought, More foul than foulest dreams, and overfraught With all obscene things and obscure of birth That ever made infection of man's earth; Having all hell for cloak Wrapped round it as a smoke And in its womb such offspring so defiled