William Wordsworth

Composed During A Storm

One who was suffering tumult in his soul, Yet failed to seek the sure relief of prayer, Went forth--his course surrendering to the care Of the fierce wind, while mid-day lightnings prowl Insidiously, untimely thunders growl; While trees, dim-seen, in frenzied numbers, tear The lingering remnant of their yellow hair, And shivering wolves, surprised with darkness, howl As if the sun were not. He raised his eye Soul-smitten; for, that instant, did appear Large space ('mid dreadful clouds) of purest sky, An azure disc--shield of Tranquillity; Invisible, unlooked-for, minister Of providential goodness ever nigh!

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