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Storm

A mighty tempest rent the sky,
As if a god were passing by.
Bending to earth my humbled head,
In solemn and religious dread,
And kneeling on the sod,
I heard a voice proclaim aloud,
Whose echoes sprung from cloud to cloud,
‘Great is the Lord our God!’
 
And ocean swelled its waters vast,
Repeating, as it roared,
In chorus with the furious blast,
‘O! mighty is the Lord!’
While the fierce lightning, flashing high,
Traced the dread accents on the sky,
Writing, as with a fiery rod,
‘O mighty is the Lord our God!’
Other works by Charles Mackay ...



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