Chapter 93

88. NATIONAL CONVULSIONS, 1849.The tempest rages through the earth around,Tossing the ocean into mountain waves:Thrones shake and totter, as the storm-wind raves,And mightiest empires tremble at the sound:Man has no structure on the solid ground,Which bides the tumult, or its fury braves:The sev'n-hill'd City, which the Tiber laves,Though call'd eternal, shakes and is astound:E'en its proud chief and priest, in sad affright,Flees for his safety to a distant shore,Lest falling temples on his head alight:What is there stable 'mid this wild uproar?—TheChurchheeds not the angry billows' shock;—Thy Church,O Lord, is founded on a rock!

88. NATIONAL CONVULSIONS, 1849.

The tempest rages through the earth around,Tossing the ocean into mountain waves:Thrones shake and totter, as the storm-wind raves,And mightiest empires tremble at the sound:Man has no structure on the solid ground,Which bides the tumult, or its fury braves:The sev'n-hill'd City, which the Tiber laves,Though call'd eternal, shakes and is astound:E'en its proud chief and priest, in sad affright,Flees for his safety to a distant shore,Lest falling temples on his head alight:What is there stable 'mid this wild uproar?—TheChurchheeds not the angry billows' shock;—Thy Church,O Lord, is founded on a rock!

The tempest rages through the earth around,

Tossing the ocean into mountain waves:

Thrones shake and totter, as the storm-wind raves,

And mightiest empires tremble at the sound:

Man has no structure on the solid ground,

Which bides the tumult, or its fury braves:

The sev'n-hill'd City, which the Tiber laves,

Though call'd eternal, shakes and is astound:

E'en its proud chief and priest, in sad affright,

Flees for his safety to a distant shore,

Lest falling temples on his head alight:

What is there stable 'mid this wild uproar?—

TheChurchheeds not the angry billows' shock;—

Thy Church,O Lord, is founded on a rock!


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