Maggie's Farm

STORM

I've seen the embattled winds hurtle together,
Uprooting, tossing high and scattering
The lush-eared crop; then the onrushing gale
With black tornado carry off light stalk
And flying stubble. Oft advances huge
A host of waters in the sky, and clouds,
Gathering from the sea, marshal the storm,
Foul, dark with rain. Down pour the heavens sheer,
In mighty flood sweeping away glad crops
And labours of the ox. The ditches fill:
Deep rivers rise in thundering spate: the seas
Breathe and boom in the narrows. Jove himself,
In blackest darkness of the storm-cloud, wields
With flickering hand his bolt, at whose dread shock
Earth trembles, wild things scurry, and stark fear
Lays prostrate, nation-wide, the hearts of men.

From A Farmer's Calendar, 40 BC. (You can spell Vergilius' name as Vergil or Virgil)