From Lightning And Tempest
By Adam Lindsay Gordon
The spring-wind passd through the forest, and whispered low in the leaves,
And the cedar tossd her head, and the oak stood firm in his pride;
The spring-wind passd through the town, through the housetops, casements, and eaves,
And whisperd low in the hearts of the men, and the men replied,
Singing, Let us rejoice in the light
Of our glory, and beauty, and might;
Let us follow our own devices, and foster our own desires.
As firm as our oaks in our pride, as our cedars fair in our sight,
We stand like the trees of the forest that brave the frosts and the fires.
The storm went forth to the forest, the plague went forth to the town,
And the men fell down to the plague, as the trees fell down to the gale;
And their bloom was a ghastly pallor, and their smile was a ghastly frown,
And the song of their hearts was changed to a wild, disconsolate wail,
Crying, God! we have sinnd, we have sinnd,
We are bruisd, we are shorn, we are thinnd,
Our strength is turnd to derision, our pride laid low in the dust,
Our cedars are cleft by Thy lightnings, our oaks are strewd by Thy wind,
And we fall on our faces seeking Thine aid, though Thy wrath is just.