Mountain idylls, and Other Poems by Alfred Castner King
page 14 of 111 (12%)
page 14 of 111 (12%)
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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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