|
|
 |
|
|
User Rating: |
|
--
/10
(0
votes)
|
|
|
|
|
|
The storm is done--the lightning with its lust
To rend the unhallowed dome in ruin dire;
The purple heaps, from the rank chaos thrust
On sheets of fell and inauspicious fire;
The thunder bellowing loud on every bound;
The hissing bolt, so tossed as to complete
All permutations of Satanic sound;
The flood that opened heaven and ransomed it.
Benign now is that beatific blue.
The flame that fires the hill is now remote
From aught in evil. Clemency anew
--Crowns every leaf, and sings in every throat.
Shall, then, the rage of earth and heaven depart,
And not the rancour of the unsensing heart?
William Baylebridge
|
|
Read poems about / on: lust, purple, evil, heaven, fire, heart
|
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
Comments about this poem (After the Storm
by
William Baylebridge
) |
|
Click here to write your
comments about this poem (After the Storm by
William Baylebridge
)
 |
Jackie Gerhardy
(5/4/2008 12:22:00 PM) |
Great visuals, and I dig the word choice. Awesome.
|
|
|
|
|
 |
 |
 |
|
|
 |
|
