XCIII. And this is in the night:--Most glorious night! Thou wert not sent for slumber! let me be A sharer in thy fierce and far delight-- A portion of the tempest and of thee! How the lit lake shines, a phosphoric sea, And the big rain comes dancing to the earth! And now again 'tis black,--and now, the glee Of the loud hills shakes with its mountain-mirth, As if they did rejoice o'er a young earthquake's birth.
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