Disaster drives the shatter’d night

before its coming thro’ the deep:

the soul is swept with monstrous flight

of fears upstartled from their sleep.

Its silent heaven is rolled away,

and shaken stars flit to and fro:

the mother-face is livid grey

with dumb apocalypse of woe.

The heart that knows its naked doom

awaits the unspoken shock of fate:

perchance, beyond these powers that loom

its hidden god shall rise more great.