But watch’d the surly advent of the storm, Much as the brown-cheek’d planters of Barbadoes Must watch a rising of the Negro swarm:-- Meantime it steer’d, like Odin’s old Armadas, Right on our coast;--a dismal, coal-black form;-- Many proud gaits were quell’d--and all bravadoes Of folly ceased--and sundry idle jokers Went home to cover up their tongs and pokers. So fierce the lightning flashed. In all their days The oldest smugglers had not seen such flashing, And they are used to many a pretty blaze, To keep their Hollands from an awkward clashing With hostile cutters in our creeks and bays:-- And truly one could think without much lashing The fancy, that those coasting clouds so awful And black, were fraught with spirits as unlawful. The gay Parade grew thin--all the fair crowd Vanish’d--as if they knew their own attractions,-- For now the lightning through a near hand cloud Began to make some very crooked fractions-- Only some few remain’d that were not cow’d, A few rough sailors, who had been in actions, And sundry boatmen, that with quick yeo’s, Lest it should _blow_,--were pulling up the _Rose_: (No flower, but a boat)--some more hauling The _Regent_ by the head:--another crew With that same cry peculiar to their _calling_-- Were heaving up the _Hope_:--and as they knew The very gods themselves oft get a mauling In their own realms, the seamen wisely drew The _Neptune_ rather higher on the beach, That he might lie beyond his billows’ reach. And now the storm, with its despotic power Had all usurp’d the azure of the skies, Making our daylight darker by an hour, And some few drops--of an unusual size-- Few and distinct--scarce twenty to the shower, Fell like huge tear-drops from a Giant’s eyes-- But then this sprinkle thicken’d in a trice And rain’d much _harder_--in good solid ice. Oh! for a very storm of words to show How this fierce crash of hail came rushing o’er us! Handel would make the gusty organs blow Grandly, and a rich storm in music score us!-- But ev’n his music seem’d composed and low, When we were _handled_ by this Hailstone Chorus; Whilst thunder rumbled, with its awful sound, And frozen comfits roll’d along the ground-- As big as bullets:--Lord! how they did batter Our crazy tiles:--And now the lightning flash’d Alternate with the dark, until the latter Was rarest of the two:--the gust too dash’d So terribly, I thought the hail must shatter Some panes,--and so it did--and first it smash’d The very square where I had chose my station To watch the general illumination.