Fakeer of Jungheera 2.13
And sheathless lightning warring with the world!
Lost is of light the last remaining ray,
As if the stars had burnt themselves away;
Or, as the wind by furious demons driven
Had quenched for ever those small lamps of heaven!
Hark! how it rushes like a maniac by,
Raving and singing as it cuts the sky—
Hark! how it hissing o'er the river flies—
Chafing the waves, and moaning till it dies!
As though the spirits of the storm unblest
Had been sent down to trouble all at rest.
Snatched is the moon from heaven, as she had been
Too fair a witness for so dark a scene;
As though her delicate and gentle form
Might ne'er abide the gathering of the storm,
But like the beautiful on earth be still
Bowed or destroyed beneath the blasts of ill.
The heavens their flood-gates all at once unbar,
The waters wildly hurry to the war,
Madly to earth the rain in torrents gushed
As from its dismal prison-clouds it rushed;
Against Jungheera's rocks and shelving shore
Loud howls the tempest wild—the breakers roar.
Thus, as the tempest dimmed the moon-light scene,
Upon Nuleeni's soul where all had been
At peace, those words of parting quenched the light
Which made existence most divinely bright.