Liste! now the thunder's rattling clymmynge soundCheves slowlie on, and then embollen clangs,Shakes the hie spyre, and losst, dispended, drown'd,Still on the gallard eare of terroure hanges;The windes are up; the lofty elmen swanges;Again the levynne and the thunder poures,And the full cloudes are braste attenes in stonen showers.
Tempests and windes and winter-nights Vex not, that but One sees thee grow, That One made all these lesser lights. If those bright joys He singly sheds On thee, were all met in one crown, Both sun and stars would hide their heads:;; And moons, though full, would get them down.Henry Vaughan
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