Poems, by Robert Louis Stevenson, hitherto unpublished/Last night we had a thunderstorm, etc.
LAST NIGHT WE HAD A THUNDERSTORM IN STYLE—1875
This draft of a rondeau written in France in the summer of 1875, seems to be the only one of Stevenson's poems where he patently attempts to incorporate into his verses the spirit of Voltaire. The conception of the thunder as the voice of God is an old one, and the thunderbolts of Jove echo through Greek and Roman literature; but it has remained for Stevenson, in ironic mood, lying in bed "with a Voltairean smile," and while others are praying—to think of the thunder as the noise made by God falling down a flight of stairs. It is the most daring bit of ridiculous imagery in all his writings, and however greatly some may be shocked thereby, its success can hardly be questioned in view of its attainment of its object—the smile that it almost inevitably arouses.
LAST NIGHT WE HAD A THUNDERSTORM IN STYLE
Last night we had a thunderstorm in style.
The wild lightning streaked the airs,
As though my God fell down a pair of stairs.
The thunder boomed and bounded all the while;
All cried and sat by waterside and stile,—
To mop our brow had been our chief of cares.
I lay in bed with a Voltairean smile,
The terror of good, simple guilty pairs,
And made this rondeau in ironic style.
Last night we had a thunderstorm in style.
Our God the Father fell down stairs,
The stark blue lightning went its flight the while,
The very rain you might have heard a mile,—
The strenuous faithful buckled to their prayers.