THE DELUGE.

The judgment was at hand. Before the sun Gathered tempestuous clouds, which, blackening, spread Until their blended masses overwhelmed The hemisphere of day: and, adding gloom To night's dark empire, swept from zone to zone— Swept the vast shadow, swallowing up all light, And covering the encircled firmament As with a mighty pall! Low in the dust Bowed the affrighted nations, worshiping. Anon the o'ercharged garners of the storm Burst with their growing burden; fierce and fast Shot down the ponderous rain, a sheeted good, That slanted not before the baffled winds, But, with an arrowy and unwavering rush, Dashed hissing earthward. Soon the rivers rose, And roaring fled their channels; and calm lakes Awoke exulting from their lethargy, And poured destruction on their peaceful shores. The lightning flickered in the deluged air, And feebly through the shout of gathering waves Muttered the stifled thunder. Day nor night Ceased the descending streams; and if the gloom A little brightened when the lurid morn Rose on the starless midnight, 'twas to show The lifting up of waters. Bird and beast Forsook the flooded plains, and wearily The shivering multitudes of human doomed Toiled up before the insatiate element. Oceans were blent, and the leviathan Was borne aloft on the ascending seas To where the eagles nestled. Mountains now Were the sole landmarks, and their sides were clothed With clustering myriads, from the weltering waste Whose surges clasped them, to their topmost peaks Swathed in the stooping cloud. The hand of Death Smote millions as they climbed; yet denser grew The crowded nations, as the encroaching waves Narrowed their little world. And in that hour, Did no man aid his fellow. Love of life Was the sole instinct; and the strong-limbed son, With imprecations smote the palsied sire That clung to him for succor. Women trod With wavering steps the precipice's brow, And found no arm to grasp on the dread verge O'er which she leaned and trembled. Selfishness Sat like an incubus on every heart, Smothering the voice of Love. The giant's foot Was on the stripling's neck: and oft despair Grappled the ready steel, and kindred blood Polluted the last remnant of that earth Which God was deluging to purify. Huge monsters from the plains, whose skeletons The mildew of succeeding centuries Has failed to crumble, with unwieldy strength Crushed through the solid crowds; and fiercest birds, Beat downward by the ever-rushing rain, With blinded eyes, drenched plumes, and trailing wings, Staggered unconscious o'er the trampled prey.