Page:The Hastings Guide.pdf/114

a storm, from Offian, may not here be thought mal-a-propos.

"The storm gathers in the western horizon, and spreads its black mantle before the Moon. It comes forward in the majesty of darkness, moving upon the wings of the blast.
"The lightning from the rifted cloud flashes before it ; the thunder rolls among the mountains in its rear, All Nature is restless and uneasy.
" The Ox lies wakeful on the mountain moss. He hears the storm roaring through the branches of the trees - he starts - and lies down again.
"The Heath-Cock lifts his head at intervals ; and returns it under his wing.
"The Owl leaves her unfinished dirge ; and sits, ruffled in her feathers, in a clift of the blasted oak.
"The famished Fox shrinks from the storm, and seeks the shelter of his den.
"The Cottager, alarmed, leaps from his pallet in the lowly hut. He raises his decayed fire. His wet dogs smoke around him. He half opens his cabin door, and looks out ; but he instantly retreats from the terrors of the night.
"Now the whole storm descends. The mountain torrents join their impetuous streams.
-