ON THE MOUNTAIN.
A storm from the mountain is coming,With lightning and thunder and rain,The wind is sweeping and hummingIn the butternut trees on the plain.The cloud is ebon that follows,The fore-cloud is livid and pale,There’s the flash and the tossing of swallowsIn the turn of the eddying gale.The rain is awake on the mountain,’T is lashing the forest afarWith fall of a shattering fountainAnd the tramp and tumult of war,With the drums of the detoning thunder,And the clang in the bugles of wind,With the gonfalons tortured asunderBy the rush of the host from behind.The plains are leaping with shadows,The highlands go out like a blot,And over the eddying meadowsThe rain is hurtled like shot.The darkness is glooming and brightening,There is alternate chaos and form,With the parry and thrust of the lightningIn the turbulent heart of the storm.
A storm from the mountain is coming,With lightning and thunder and rain,The wind is sweeping and hummingIn the butternut trees on the plain.The cloud is ebon that follows,The fore-cloud is livid and pale,There’s the flash and the tossing of swallowsIn the turn of the eddying gale.The rain is awake on the mountain,’T is lashing the forest afarWith fall of a shattering fountainAnd the tramp and tumult of war,With the drums of the detoning thunder,And the clang in the bugles of wind,With the gonfalons tortured asunderBy the rush of the host from behind.The plains are leaping with shadows,The highlands go out like a blot,And over the eddying meadowsThe rain is hurtled like shot.The darkness is glooming and brightening,There is alternate chaos and form,With the parry and thrust of the lightningIn the turbulent heart of the storm.
A storm from the mountain is coming,With lightning and thunder and rain,The wind is sweeping and hummingIn the butternut trees on the plain.
A storm from the mountain is coming,
With lightning and thunder and rain,
The wind is sweeping and humming
In the butternut trees on the plain.
The cloud is ebon that follows,The fore-cloud is livid and pale,There’s the flash and the tossing of swallowsIn the turn of the eddying gale.
The cloud is ebon that follows,
The fore-cloud is livid and pale,
There’s the flash and the tossing of swallows
In the turn of the eddying gale.
The rain is awake on the mountain,’T is lashing the forest afarWith fall of a shattering fountainAnd the tramp and tumult of war,
The rain is awake on the mountain,
’T is lashing the forest afar
With fall of a shattering fountain
And the tramp and tumult of war,
With the drums of the detoning thunder,And the clang in the bugles of wind,With the gonfalons tortured asunderBy the rush of the host from behind.
With the drums of the detoning thunder,
And the clang in the bugles of wind,
With the gonfalons tortured asunder
By the rush of the host from behind.
The plains are leaping with shadows,The highlands go out like a blot,And over the eddying meadowsThe rain is hurtled like shot.
The plains are leaping with shadows,
The highlands go out like a blot,
And over the eddying meadows
The rain is hurtled like shot.
The darkness is glooming and brightening,There is alternate chaos and form,With the parry and thrust of the lightningIn the turbulent heart of the storm.
The darkness is glooming and brightening,
There is alternate chaos and form,
With the parry and thrust of the lightning
In the turbulent heart of the storm.
Now the storm is over,And the greener plainSeems to glow and hoverThrough the thinning rain.Now the wind is gustyIn the maple tops,Striking out the lustyStorms of gleaming drops.Now the goldfinch whistlesIn his spattered vest,Balanced on the thistles,Bolder than the best.And the hermit thrushesOn the sparkling hills,Link the dripping hushesWith their silver thrills.
Now the storm is over,And the greener plainSeems to glow and hoverThrough the thinning rain.Now the wind is gustyIn the maple tops,Striking out the lustyStorms of gleaming drops.Now the goldfinch whistlesIn his spattered vest,Balanced on the thistles,Bolder than the best.And the hermit thrushesOn the sparkling hills,Link the dripping hushesWith their silver thrills.
Now the storm is over,And the greener plainSeems to glow and hoverThrough the thinning rain.
Now the storm is over,
And the greener plain
Seems to glow and hover
Through the thinning rain.
Now the wind is gustyIn the maple tops,Striking out the lustyStorms of gleaming drops.
Now the wind is gusty
In the maple tops,
Striking out the lusty
Storms of gleaming drops.
Now the goldfinch whistlesIn his spattered vest,Balanced on the thistles,Bolder than the best.
Now the goldfinch whistles
In his spattered vest,
Balanced on the thistles,
Bolder than the best.
And the hermit thrushesOn the sparkling hills,Link the dripping hushesWith their silver thrills.
And the hermit thrushes
On the sparkling hills,
Link the dripping hushes
With their silver thrills.