James Whitcomb Riley - The Cyclone lyrics

So lone I stood, the very trees seemed drawn In conference with themselves.--Intense--intense Seemed everything;--the summer splendor on The sight,--magnificence! A babe's life might not lighter fail and die Than failed the sunlight--Though the hour was noon, The palm of midnight might not lighter lie Upon the brow of June. With eyes upraised, I saw the underwings Of swallows--gone the instant afterward-- While from the elms there came strange twitterings, Stilled scarce ere they were heard. The river seemed to shiver; and, far down Its darkened length, I saw the sycamores Lean inward closer, under the vast frown That weighed above the shores. Then was a roar, born of some awful burst!-- And one lay, shrieking, chattering, in my path-- Flung--he or I--out of some space accurst As of Jehovah's wrath: Nor barely had he wreaked his latest prayer, Ere back the noon flashed o'er the ruin done, And, o'er uprooted forests touseled there, The birds sang in the sun.