The Wind.

Night comes upon the earth; and fearfully     Arise the mighty winds, and sweep along     In the full chorus of their midnight song.     The waste of heavy clouds, that veil the sky,     Roll like a murky scroll before them driven,     And show faint glimpses of a darker heaven.     No ray is there of moon, or pale-eyed star,     Darkness is on the universe; save where     The western sky lies glimmering, faint and far,     With day's red embers dimly glowing there.     Hark! how the wind comes gathering in its course,     And sweeping onward, with resistless force,     Howls through the silent space of starless skies,     And on the breast of the swol'n ocean dies.     Oh, though art terrible, thou viewless power!     That rid'st destroying at the midnight hour!     We hear thy mighty pinion, but the eye     Knows nothing of thine awful majesty.     We see all mute creation bow before     Thy viewless wings, as thou careerest o'er     This rocking world; that in the boundless sky     Suspended, vibrates, as thou rushest by.     There is no terror in the lightning's glare,     That breaks its red track through the trackless air;     There is no terror in the voice that speaks     From out the clouds when the loud thunder breaks     Over the earth, like that which dwells in thee,     Thou unseen tenant of immensity.