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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=354830" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Storm in the Mountains</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A lonely boy, far venturing from home <br>Out on the half-wild herd’s faint tracks I roam; <br>Mid rock-browned mountains, which with stony frown <br>Glare into haggard chasms deep adown; <br>A rude and craggy world, the prospect lies <br>Bounded in circuit by the bending skies. <br>Now at some clear pool scooped out by the shocks <br>Of rain-floods plunging from the upper rocks <br>Whose liquid disc in its undimpled rest <br>Glows like a mighty gem brooching the mountain’s breast, <br>I drink and must, or mark the wide-spread herd, <br>Or list the thinking of the dingle-bird; <br>And now towards some wild-hanging shade I stray, <br>To shun the bright oppression of the day; <br>For round each crag, and o’er each bosky swell, <br>The fierce refracted heat flares visible, <br>Lambently restless, like the dazzling hem <br>Of some else viewless veil held trembling over them. <br>Why congregate the swallows in the air, <br>And northward then in rapid flight repair? <br>With sudden swelling din, remote yet harsh, <br>Why roar the bull-frogs in the tea-tree marsh? <br>Why cease the locusts to throng up in flight <br>And clap their gay wings in the fervent light? <br>Why climb they, bodingly demure, instead <br>The tallest spear-grass to the bending head? <br>Instinctively, along the sultry sky, <br>I turn a listless, yet inquiring, eye; <br>And mark that now with a slow gradual pace <br>A solemn trance creams northward o’er its face; <br>Yon clouds that late were labouring past the sun, <br>Reached by its sure arrest, one after one, <br>Come to a heavy halt; the airs that played <br>About the rugged mountains all are laid: <br>While drawing nearer far-off heights appear, <br>As in a dream’s wild prospect, strangely near! <br>Till into wood resolves their robe of blue, <br>And the grey crags rise bluffly on the view. <br>Such are the signs and tokens that presage <br>A summer hurricane’s forthcoming rage. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">At length the south sends out her cloudy heaps <br>And up the glens at noontide dimness creeps; <br>The birds, late warbling in the hanging green <br>Off steep-set brakes, seek now some safer screen; <br>The herd, in doubt, no longer wanders wide, <br>But fast ingathering throngs yon mountain’s side, <br>Whose echoes, surging to its tramp, might seem <br>The muttered troubles of some Titan’s dream. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fast the dim legions of the muttering storm <br>Throng denser, or protruding columns form; <br>While splashing forward from their cloudy lair, <br>Convolving flames, like scouting dragons, glare: <br>Low thunders follow, labouring up the sky; <br>And as fore-running blasts go blaring by, <br>At once the forest, with a mighty stir, <br>Bows, as in homage to the thunderer! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hark! From the dingoes blood-polluted dens <br>In the gloom-hidden chasms of the glens, <br>Long fitful howls wail up; and in the blast <br>Strange hissing whispers seem to huddle past; <br>As if the dread stir had aroused from sleep <br>Weird spirits, cloistered in yon cavy steep <br>(On which, in the grim past, some Cain’s offence <br>Hath haply outraged heaven!) Who rising thence <br>Wrapped in the boding vapours, laughed again <br>To wanton in the wild-willed hurricane. <br>See in the storm’s front, sailing dark and dread, <br>A wide-winged eagle like a black flag spread! <br>The clouds aloft flash doom! Short stops his flight! <br>He seems to shrivel in the blasting light! <br>The air is shattered with a crashing sound, <br>And he falls stonelike, lifeless, to the ground. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now, like a shadow at great nature’s heart, <br>The turmoil grows. Now wonder, with a start, <br>Marks where right overhead the storm careers, <br>Girt with black horrors and wide-flaming fears! <br>Arriving thunders, mustering on his path, <br>Swell more and more the roarings of his wrath, <br>As out in widening circles they extend, <br>And then—at once—in utter silence end. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Portentous silence! Time keeps breathing past, <br>Yet it continues! May this marvel last? <br>This wild weird silence in the midst of gloom <br>So manifestly big with coming doom? <br>Tingles the boding ear; and up the glens <br>Instinctive dread comes howling from the wild-dogs dens. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Terrific vision! Heaven’s great ceiling splits, <br>And a vast globe of writhing fire emits, <br>Which pouring down in one continuous stream, <br>Spans the black concave like a burning beam, <br>A moment;—then from end to end it shakes <br>With a quick motion—and in thunder breaks! <br>Peal rolled on peal! While heralding the sound, <br>As each concussion thrills the solid ground, <br>Fierce glares coil, snake-like, round the rocky wens <br>Of the red hills, or hiss into the glens, <br>Or thick through heaven like flaming falchions swarm, <br>Cleaving the teeming cisterns of the storm, <br>From which rain-torrents, searching every gash, <br>Split by the blast come sheeting with a dash. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">On yon grey peak, from rock-encrusted roots, <br>The mighty patriarch of the wood upshoots, <br>In whose proud-spreading top’s imperial height, <br>The mountain-eagle loveth most to light: <br>Now dimly seen through the tempestuous air, <br>His form seems harrowed by a mad despair, <br>As with his ponderous arms uplifted high, <br>He wrestles with the storm and threshes at the sky! <br>A swift bolt hurtles through the lurid air, <br>Another thundering crash! The peak is bare! <br>Huge hurrying fragments all around are cast, <br>The wild-winged, mad-limbed monsters of the blast. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The darkness thickens! With despairing cry <br>From shattering boughs the rain-drenched parrtos fly; <br>Loose rocks roll rumbling from the mountains round, <br>And half the forest strews the smoking ground; <br>To the bared crags the blasts now wilder moan, <br>And the caves labour with a ghostlier groan. <br>Wide raging torrents down the gorges flow <br>Swift bearing with them to the vale below <br>Those sylvan wrecks that littered late the path <br>Of the loud hurricane s all-trampling wrath. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The storm is past. Yet booming on afar <br>Is heard the rattling of the thunder-car, <br>And that low muffled moaning, as of grief, <br>Which follows with a wood-sigh wide and brief. <br>The clouds break up; the sun s forth-bursting rays <br>Clothe the wet landscape with a dazzling blaze; <br>The birds begin to sing a lively strain, <br>And merry echoes ring it o’er again; <br>The clustered herd is spreading out to graze, <br>Though lessening torrents still a hundred ways <br>Flash downward, and from many a rock ledge <br>A mantling gush comes quick and shining o er the edge. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">’Tis evening; and the torrent’s furious flow <br>Runs gentlier now into the lake below, <br>O’er all the freshened scene no sound is heard, <br>Save the short twitter of some busied bird, <br>Or a faint rustle made amongst the trees <br>By wasting fragments of a broken breeze. <br>Along the wild and wreck-strewed paths I wind, <br>Watching earth’s happiness with quiet mind, <br>And see a beauty all unmarked till now <br>Flushing each flowery nook and sunny brow; <br>Wished peace returning like a bird of calm, <br>Brings to the wounded world its blessed healing balm. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> On nerveless, tuneless lines how sadly <br> Ringing rhymes may wasted be, <br> While blank verse oft is mere prose madly <br> Striving to be poetry: <br> While prose that’s craggy as a mountain <br> May Apollo’s sun-robe don, <br> Or hold the well-spring of a fountain <br> Bright as that in Helicon. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Charles+Harpur">Charles Harpur</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=354830" data-title="A Storm in the Mountains de Charles Harpur" data-description="A lonely boy, far venturing from home 
Out on the half-wild herd’s faint tracks I roam; 
Mid rock-browned mountains, which with stony frown 
Glare into haggard chasms deep adown; 
A rude and craggy world, the prospect lies 
Bounded in circuit by..."></div>
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