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Mountain idylls, and Other Poems by Alfred Castner King
page 14 of 111 (12%)
The growling thunders rumble a reply
Of detonation awful and profound,
To every corruscation's vivid gleam;
In deep crescendo and fortissimo,
In quavering tremolo and stately fugue
Echoes, reverberates and dies away!

But soon the sun, with smiling radiance,
Through orifice, through rift and aperture,
Invades the storm, and dissipates the clouds,
Which scatter, cowering and ephemeral,
Hugging the cliffs, and o'er the dire abyss
Hover, in fleecy, ever changing form,
And in a transient season disappear;
Vanish, as man must vanish, and are gone.

The moist precipitation of the storm
Revives, refreshes and invigorates
The various vegetation, and bedews
Each blade of grass and floweret with a tear;
As nature, weeping o'er the faults of man.

[Illustration:
"Would seem in more accord and harmony,
With such surroundings than the puny form
Of insignificant, conceited man."

UNCOMPAHGRE CAÑON, NEAR OURAY, COLORADO.]

The day recedes, and twilight's neutral shade
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