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The sky is changed!--and such a change! O night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman! Far along, From peak to peak the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder! - Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron), Childe Harold (canto III, st. 2) Hark, hark! Deep sounds, and deeper still, Are howling from the mountain's bosom: There's not a breath of wind upon the hill, Yet quivers every leaf, and drops every blossom: Earth groans as if beneath a heavy load. - Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron), Heaven and Earth (pt. I, sc. 3) Loud roared the dreadful thunder, The rain a deluge showers. - Andrew Cherry, Bay of Biscay Thy thunder, conscious of the new command, Rumbles reluctant o'er our fallen house. - John Keats (1), Hyperion (l. 60) As a storm-cloud lurid with lightning And a cry of lamentation, Repeated and again repeated, Deep and loud As the reverberation Of cloud answering unto cloud, Swells and rose away in the distance, As if the sheeted Lightning retreated, Baffled and thwarted by the wind's resistance. - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Christus--The Golden Legend--Epilogue (l. 62) The thunder, Wing'd with red lightning and impetuous rage, Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now To bellow through the vast and boundless deep. - John Milton, Paradise Lost (bk. I, l. 174) [To stand against the deep, dread-bolted thunder? In the most terrible and nimble stroke Of quick cross lightning to watch, poor perdu, With this thin helm?] - William Shakespeare, King Lear (Cordelia at IV, vii) Are there no stones in heaven But what serves for thunder? - William Shakespeare, Othello the Moor of Venice (Othello at V, ii) Methought the billows spoke and told me of it; The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder, The deep and dreadful organ pipe, pronounced The name of Prosper; it did bass my compass. - William Shakespeare, The Tempest (Alonzo at III, iii) It is the flash which appears, the thunderbolt will follow. [Fr., C'est l'eclair qui parait, la foudre va partir.] - Voltaire (Francois Marie Arouet Voltaire), Oreste (II, 7)
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