I would not live alway: I ask not to stay

Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way.

William A. Muhlenberg (1796-1877): I would not live alway.

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 1788-1824: Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 92.

For angling-rod he took a sturdy oake;

For line, a cable that in storm ne'er broke;

His hooke was such as heads the end of pole

To pluck down house ere fire consumes it whole;

The hook was baited with a dragon's tale,—

And then on rock he stood to bob for whale.

Sir William Davenant (1605-1668): Britannia Triumphans. Page 15. 1637.

And, pleased the Almighty's orders to perform,

Rides in the whirlwind and directs the storm.

Joseph Addison (1672-1719): The Campaign. Line 291.

And proud his mistress' order to perform,

Rides in the whirlwind and directs the storm.

Alexander Pope (1688-1744): The Dunciad. Book iii. Line 263.

Where sits our sulky, sullen dame,

Gathering her brows like gathering storm,

Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.

Robert Burns (1759-1796): Tam o' Shanter.

As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form,

Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,—

Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,

Eternal sunshine settles on its head.

Oliver Goldsmith (1728-1774): The Deserted Village. Line 189.

Hail, Columbia! happy land!

Hail, ye heroes! heaven-born band!

Who fought and bled in Freedom's cause,

Who fought and bled in Freedom's cause,

And when the storm of war was gone,

Enjoyed the peace your valor won.

Let independence be our boast,

Ever mindful what it cost;

Ever grateful for the prize,

Let its altar reach the skies!

Joseph Hopkinson (1770-1842): Hail, Columbia!

Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are,

That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,

How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,

Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you

From seasons such as these?

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): King Lear. Act iii. Sc. 4.

No, here's to the pilot that weathered the storm!

George Canning (1770-1827): The Pilot that weathered the Storm.

God moves in a mysterious way

His wonders to perform;

He plants his footsteps in the sea

And rides upon the storm.

William Cowper (1731-1800): Light shining out of Darkness.

Thy spirit, Independence, let me share;

Lord of the lion heart and eagle eye,

Thy steps I follow with my bosom bare,

Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky.

Tobias Smollett (1721-1771): Ode to Independence.

Alas! how light a cause may move

Dissension between hearts that love!

Hearts that the world in vain had tried,

And sorrow but more closely tied;

That stood the storm when waves were rough,

Yet in a sunny hour fall off,

Like ships that have gone down at sea

When heaven was all tranquillity.

Thomas Moore (1779-1852): Lalla Rookh. The Light of the Harem.