  decorative THE mountains lost in clouds, the giant firs Standing out 'gainst the never-ceasing lightning, Shaken by thunderpeals, in threefold strength, As all the valleys echoed through the night. The mighty heads stormbent, the branches tossed Into the sheets of water, sky and earth In lurid light, a never-ceasing flame. There in the grass, beneath a tiny leaf A firefly put forth its wondrous ray, As if no storm, no rain, no hail were nigh, That it outshone the lightning. It would say: I am the same as lightning! Storm thy life And threat'ning thunder, but thy flame O minstrel, Thy heart's own fire, is as strong, as true, As elementary as Fate's wild raving, And though it throws its light but on a leaf, That leaf may be eternal by the light Thy soul hath shed on it. That steady flame Burns on, when all the clouds have spent their fire, And when the bowels of the earth have ceased To growl in answer. Undisturbed, thy flame Will live, defying Fate's alarm, a fearless, Undying mighty word, as strong as lightning And love's own sheen, thy soul's unwavering beacon. |
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