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    Thunder Cloud A

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    Thunder Cloud A

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    thunder cloud a

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    Thunder Cloud A

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    of 1

    A THUNDER CLOUD.

    The night is black, one heavy bank of cloud


    Obscures the herald glimmer of the moon
    That soon should rise. The faint sea breathes aloud
    And the wide air above the sands a-swoon,
    Chill, as with fear, and held in moveless wonder,
    Waits under the curved dark for flame and thunder.

    Pitch blackness moves against the starless night,
    Vast formless shapes roll shoreward fold on fold,
    As thought the void, in triumph over light,
    Drew all her legions from the outer cold,
    Like some despair of over-reaching sorrow,
    That having drowned to-day would whelm to-morrow.

    And lo, with sudden flame the world a-fire,
    Gleams for a heart-beat, calling darker night,
    Rayless as Gods despair, or Deaths desire,
    After that brightness, till from out the height,
    Each rolling echo calling to its fellow,
    The thunders as of judgment range and bellow.

    Then, as if lifted by an unseen hand,
    The shapeless horror brightens at the rim,
    And by the wide seas limit, where the land
    Reaches a long arm, glimmers faint and dim,
    Shrouded in cloud, but ever slowly growing,
    The sweet, pale brightness from Gods white moon flowing.

    David McKee Wright
    N.S.W.
    The Bulletin, 21
    st
    December 1911

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