AT midnight wakening, through my startled brain
The sudden thunder crashed a chord of pain;
I rose, and, awe-struck, hearkened. Overhead
In one long, loud, reverberant peal of dread,
Ceaseless it rolled, till as a sea of fire,
The climax gained, must wave by wave retire;
So, half-reluctant, up the heights of space
The refluent thunder softened into grace,
Its deep, harsh menace changed to murmurs low
As the lost south wind's, muffled in the snow;
Waning through whisperous echoes less and less
Till the last echo sleeps in gentleness.
Thus 'minded am I of that law of old
Which down the slopes of awful Sinai rolled,
Smote men with judgment terrors; yet, at last,
The lightning flame and mystic tumult passed,
Lapsed down the ages, echoing less and less
Jehovah's wrath, till, changed to tenderness,
The vengeful law, which once man's faith sufficed,
Melts into mercy on the heart of Christ!
