The Storm [French translation]

There came a Wind like a Bugle –

It quivered through the Grass

And a Green Chill upon the Heat

So ominous did pass

We barred the Windows and the Doors

As from an Emerald Ghost –

The Doom’s electric Moccasin

That very instant passed –

On a strange Mob of panting Trees

And Fences fled away

And Rivers where the Houses ran

Those looked that lived – that Day –

The Bell within the steeple wild

The flying tidings told –

How much can come

And much can go,

And yet abide the World!