Page:The Poems of Henry Kendall (1920).djvu/60

 Now a sheet of lurid splendour swept athwart the mountain spire,

And a midnight squall came trumping down on zigzag paths of fire!

Through the tumult dashed a torrent flanking out in foaming streams,

Whilst the woodlands groaned and muttered like a monster vexed with dreams.

Then I swooned away in horror. Oh! that shriek which rent the air,

Like the voice of some fell demon harrowed by a mad despair.

harp we love hath a royal burst!

Its strings are mighty forest trees;

And branches, swaying to and fro,

Are fingers sounding symphonies.

The harp we love hath a solemn sound!

And rocks amongst the shallow seas

Are strings from which the rolling waves

Draw forth their stirring harmonies.

The harp we love hath a low sweet voice!

Its strings are in the bosom deep,

And Love will press those hidden chords

When all the baser passions sleep.

by this surging sea,

Here, by this surging, sooming sea,

Here, by this wailing, wild-faced sea,

Dreaming through the dreamy night;

Yearning for a strange delight!

Will it ever, ever, ever fly to me,

By this surging sea,

By this surging, sooming sea,

By this wailing, wild-faced sea?