1593

There came a Wind like a Bugle —

It quivered through the Grass

And a Green Chill upon the Heat

So ominous did pass

We barred the Windows and the Doors

As from an Emerald Ghost —

The Doom’s electric Moccasin

That very instant passed —

On a strange Mob of panting Trees

And Fences fled away

And Rivers where the Houses ran

Those looked that lived — that Day —

The Bell within the steeple wild

The flying tidings told —

How much can come

And much can go,

And yet abide the World!

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