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An hour agone, and prostrate Nature lay, Like some sore-smitten creature, nigh to death, With feverish, pallid lips, with laboring breath, And languid eyeballs darkening to the day; A burning noontide ruled with merciless sway Earth, wave, and air; the ghastly-stretching heath, The sullen trees, the fainting flowers beneath, Drooped hopeless, shrivelling in the torrid ray: When, sudden, like a cheerful trumpet blown Far off by rescuing spirits, rose the wind, Urging great hosts of clouds; the thunder's tone Swells into wrath, the rainy cataracts fall, But pausing soon, behold creation shrined In a new birth, God's covenant clasping all!
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