My hopes and my ambition all were down,
Like grass the mower turneth from its place;
The night's thick darkness was an angry frown,
And earth a tear upon the cheek of space.
The mighty fiend of storm in wild unrest,
By lightning stabbed, dragged slowly up the plain;
Great clots of light, like blood, dripped down his breast,
And from his open jaws fell foam in rain.