THE STORM!
Hush ! hark ! the dreadful storm is near ui now ! It onward sweeps with demon fury ; hear ! The forests shriek, as if in agony, As grand old trees like willows bend; soon fall Crash on crash, until the very ground moans As if oppressed by accursed deadly pain; Whilst o'er the storm is heard the cry—"He comes ! The prophet comes ! he rides upon the storm ! Ha ! ha ! he rides upon the storm !" See people running to and fro In dread despair, nowhere to go, Their homes are wrecked, in ruins laid low ; Oh, heaven ! what a storm ! Poor wretched parents, pressed with care, Sweet little children flying through the air ; Young men and maidens kneel in prayer To guard them from the storm. And now fierce heaving billows lash the shore, Whilst o'er the foam the ship's are rudely driven With lightning speed ; a home they never more Will find ; no bay nor shelter near, no heaven— The weary worn-out seaman can't descry. So all with one accord prepare to die, For high aloft they hear the cry "He comes! The prophet comes ! he rides upon the storm ! Ha ! ha ! he rides upon the storm !" Silence ! silence ! a gentle breeze Now plays along the listless seas ; While o'er the land where all was pain A shade of sunlight glows again ; For now the storm is o'er. Nospur.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/KUMAT18830316.2.11
Bibliographic details
Kumara Times, Issue 2043, 16 March 1883, Page 2
Word Count
228THE STORM! Kumara Times, Issue 2043, 16 March 1883, Page 2
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