THUNDER: the flesh quails, and the soul bows down. <br />Night: east, west, south, and northward, very night <br />Star upon struggling star strives into sight, <br />Star after shuddering star the deep storms drown. <br />The very throne of night, her very crown, <br />A man lays hand on, and usurps her right <br />Song from the highest of heaven’s imperious height <br />Shoots, as a fire to smite some towering town. <br />Rage, anguish, harrowing fear, heart-crazing crime, <br />Make monstrous all the murderous face of Time <br />Shown in the spheral orbit of a glass <br />Revolving. Earth cries out from all her graves. <br />Frail, on frail rafts, across wide-wallowing waves, <br />Shapes here and there of child and mother pass.<br /><br />Algernon Charles Swinburne<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/john-webster-vii/
