[BNP/E3, 153 – 33^r]

The Death of the Titan.

Epicurean.

From night’s great womb with pain the horrid morn has[1] broke,

Far o’er the throbbing earth the clattering thunders roar,

The Titan wakes at last, his front begrimed with gore,

His brutal[2] breath grasp abrupt[3] uproots the ruggèd oak.

In mortal throes he raves, and with stertorous croak

The birds are struck, the streams with terror dried, the shore

Caves into sea, mounts[4] break down to their torrid core,

The tottering crags are rent, is rent the clouds’ grey cloak.

The lightning shrinks, the seas in roaring clangor splash;

The giant sways and now, with sudden thunderous crash,

Falls, and the thronèd stars from glittering seats are torn.

He fell; the startl’d earth, with frantic fury stung,

Split, burst and broke; the air with rankling curses rung

But in the sky the sun still smilèd as in scorn.

Charles Robert Anon.

April 1904.

[1] has ^/hath\

[2] brutishal

[3] corabrupt

[4] roc mounts