180
COWLEY'S POEMS.
Heaven itself is angry next;
(Woe to man, when Heaven is vext!)
With sullen brow it frown'd,
And murmur'd first in an imperfect sound:
Till Moses, lifting up his hand,
Waves the expected signal of his wand;
And all the full-charg'd clouds in ranged squadrons move,
And fill the spacious plains above;
Through which the rolling thunder first does play,
And opens wide the tempest's noisy way.
And straight a stony shower
Of monstrous Hail does downwards pour,
Such as ne'er winter yet brought forth,
From all her stormy magazines of the north.
It all the beasts and men abroad did slay,
O'er the defaced corpse, like monuments, lay;
The houses and strong-body'd trees it broke,
Nor ask'd aid from the thunder's stroke;
The thunder but for terror through it flew,
The hail alone the work could do.
The dismal lightnings all around,
Some flying through the air, some running on the ground,
Some swimming o'er the water's face,
Fill'd with bright horror every place;
One would have thought, their dreadful day to have seen,
The very hail, and rain itself, had kindled been.
(Woe to man, when Heaven is vext!)
With sullen brow it frown'd,
And murmur'd first in an imperfect sound:
Till Moses, lifting up his hand,
Waves the expected signal of his wand;
And all the full-charg'd clouds in ranged squadrons move,
And fill the spacious plains above;
Through which the rolling thunder first does play,
And opens wide the tempest's noisy way.
And straight a stony shower
Of monstrous Hail does downwards pour,
Such as ne'er winter yet brought forth,
From all her stormy magazines of the north.
It all the beasts and men abroad did slay,
O'er the defaced corpse, like monuments, lay;
The houses and strong-body'd trees it broke,
Nor ask'd aid from the thunder's stroke;
The thunder but for terror through it flew,
The hail alone the work could do.
The dismal lightnings all around,
Some flying through the air, some running on the ground,
Some swimming o'er the water's face,
Fill'd with bright horror every place;
One would have thought, their dreadful day to have seen,
The very hail, and rain itself, had kindled been.
