Angel of Rain and Fire



II

  Thou on whose stream, mid the steep sky's commotion,
  Loose clouds like earth's decaying leaves are shed,
  Shook from the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean,

  Angels of rain and lightning: there are spread
  On the blue surface of thine aery surge,
  Like the bright hair uplifted from the head

  Of some fierce Maenad, even from the dim verge
  Of the horizon to the zenith's height,
  The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge

  Of the dying year, to which this closing night
  Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre,
  Vaulted with all thy congregated might

  Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere
  Black rain, and fire, and hail will burst: oh hear!







images © 1997 by Randy Wang
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