On Horeb’s mount a holy man of God Stood forth to view the fragrant strife of morn, Sunshine with shadow—rosy day with night— And sleeping Death with glory-wakened Life. A close dark mantle wrapped his agéd form, His brow uncovered, though a snowy lock, Stirred by the breeze of morning, waved above Its frozen marble; while the gathered shades Of many years hung, like a coronal Of withered leaves, around it—and his eyes, Strange, deep, and fathomless, gleamed forth beneath Its deadly whiteness, like two liquid flames. From the recesses of a marble tomb. Mystic and subtle as some charmed perfume, A sense of pleasure thrilled upon his heart, As quick, faint pulses of the scented breeze Brought balmy odors from the dewy flowers, Waved the plumed monarchs of the forest proud, And wafted on the islets of the cloud Through liquid sapphire, where they seemed to float Softly and dreamily, and full of love. He bowed and worshiped—and “the Lord passed by.” The sky was changed—and hoarsely, from afar, A sound of waters, and of mingled winds, Through forests raging, crept upon the ear; And, driving o’er the azure fields of heaven, Cloud after cloud came rolling swiftly on, Black Pelion upon gloomy Ossa piled. Like giant towers they gather, and from point To point along their frowning battlements Red signal-fires are flashing far and free. Hark! the deep watchword of the rushing storm! The thunder-spirit calls his squadrons dark, Far through the trackless void of scowling space, And lightning rends the cloudy canopy, As prophet’s vision tears aside the veil That shadows o’er the future, and beholds Beyond unfolded naught but dim, and wild, And fearful mystery. Then the sullen roar Of elemental conflict crashing fell— A mingled din of crushing thunderbolts, And sadly moaning winds, and heavy drops Of rain, as though the demons of the storm Wept o’er the ruin which their fury wrought. ’Twas past—and o’er the eastern mountains rolled The cloudy banners, and the chariot wheels Of burning levin—by the tempest led, (As some great conqueror from battle won,) The serried hosts of falling waters passed Beneath the rainbow’s bright triumphal arch; And Nature shouted as the wing of peace Fell softly o’er the wild and wasted track Of elemental war. “The Lord was not” Amid the rushing armies of the storm, Its fierceness was the shadow of his frown, Deep-veiled, yet dark, and terribly sublime; And, as upon its far retiring verge, The glorious rainbow brightened, ’twas a dim And faint reflection of His mercy’s smile!