Ilooked into the night and saw God writing with tumultuous flame Upon the thunder's front of awe,— As on sonorous brass,—the Law, Terrific, of His judgement name. Weary of all life's best and worst, With hands of hate, I—who had pled, I, who had prayed for death at first And had not died—now stood and cursed God, yet he would not strike me dead. |