The Passing of the Storm, and Other Poems. Alfred Castner King

The Passing of the Storm, and Other Poems - Alfred Castner King


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nature's architecture seen.

      From yawning chasm and abyss,

      Rose minaret and precipice,

      Carved by the tireless hand of time,

      In forms fantastic, yet sublime,

      While spires impregnable and high,

      Were profiled on the lowering sky.

      Exceeding the tremendous height

      Of brother peaks, on left and right,

      In his commanding station placed,

      The giant of the rocky waste

      With awe-inspiring aspect stood,

      The sentry of the solitude,

      Guarding the mountainous expanse

      In rock-ribbed armor panoplied,

      With rugged walls on every side,

      Beseamed with countless scars and rents,

      From combat with the elements,

      He towered with mute and massive form,

      A challenge to the gathering storm.

      This overshadowing mountain peak

      In solemn silence seemed to speak

      A prophecy of arctic doom;

      As in his frigid splendor dressed,

      He reared aloft his frozen crest,

      Surmounted by a snowy plume.

      His wrinkled and forbidding brow

      A sombre shadow seemed to throw

      O'er other crags as wild and stern,

      Which frowned defiance in return.

      The wind, lugubrious and sad,

      In doleful accents, soft and low,

      Mourned through the dismal forests, clad

      In weird habiliments of snow,

      As if, forsooth, the sylvan ghosts

      Had mobilized in pallid hosts,

      To haunt their rugged solitudes,

      The spectres of departed woods.

      And with uninterrupted flow

      The streamlet, underneath the snow,

      Answered the wind's despondent moan

      With plaint of gurgling monotone;

      Or, locked in winter's stern embrace,

      No longer trickled in its bed,

      But found a frigid resting place

      In stationary ice, instead.

      The crystal snowflakes gently fell,

      Enrobing mountain, plain and dell,

      In mantle spotless and complete,

      As nature in her winding sheet.

      Layer upon layer fell fast and deep

      Till every cliff, abrupt and steep,

      Was crowned with coronal of white.

      Capricious gusts, which whirl and sift,

      Built comb and overhanging drift,

      From feathery flakes so soft and light.

      More thickly flew the snow and fast;

      The wind developed and the blast

      Soon churned the tempest, till the air

      Seemed but a white and whirling glare,

      Through which the penetrating eye

      No shape nor contour might descry.

      The poor belated traveller,

      Who braved the rigor of that day,

      Might thank his bright protecting star,—

      If orbs of pure celestial ray,

      Far in the scintillating skies,

      Preside o'er human destinies,—

      That he, bewildered and distressed,

      Had warded off exhaustion's rest,

      And in that maze of pine and fir

      Escaped an icy sepulchre.

      When driving snows accumulate,

      They yield to the tremendous weight.

      And down the mountain's rugged sides

      The mass with great momentum slides,

      Cleaving the fragile spruce and pine,

      Which stand in its ill-fated line,

      As bearded grain, mature and lithe,

      Goes down before the reaper's scythe.

      Or, when the cyclone's baleful force,

      In flood of atmospheric wrath,

      Pursues its devastating course,

      Leaving but ruin in its path;

      Despoiling in a moment's span

      The most exalted works of man;

      Or waters, suddenly set free,

      When some black thunder cloud is rent,

      Rush down a wild declivity

      With irresistible descent,

      Depositing on every hand

      A layer of sediment and sand;

      With swift and spoliating flow,

      Uprooting many a noble tree,

      To strew the desert wastes below

      With scattered drift-wood and debris;

      Such is the dreadful avalanche,

      Which rends the forest, root and branch.

      From dangers in such varied form,

      And the discomforts of the storm,

      Small wonder 'twas the mountaineer

      Left not his fireside's ruddy cheer;

      But from behind the bolted door

      Discerned the tempest's strident roar,

      Or heard the pendent icicle,

      Which, from the eaves, in fragments fell,

      As some more formidable blast

      In paroxysmal fury passed.

      It shook with intermittent throes,

      Of boisterous, spasmodic power,

      A most substantial hut, which rose,

      As summer breeze sways grass or flower

      And e'en the dull immobile ground

      Trembled in sympathy profound.

      Such was the fury of the storm,

      As if the crystal flakes had met

      With militating hosts, to swarm

      In siege about its parapet.

      When every rampant onslaught failed,

      The blast in wanton frenzy wailed.

      As


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