I cry out aloud to the tempest
As it sweeps in the dark world about me;
It answers my prayer in its roaring,
And never goes tearing without me.
I am one with the sky and the billows,
With the sea and the clouds that enwind me,
And I grovel in fear to my master
Lest in seeming neglect he should find me.
When he causes the thunder to rumble,
The lightnings to flash on the steeple,
The earthquakes to shaken and shatter
Beneath the black ant-hill of people,
When he lashes the waves into fury,
And spurs on the foaming sea-horses,
When he rises and falls to a whisper,
In furious onslaughts, in his pauses,
In the clouds that he scatters before him,
In the waves that he beats on the shore,
Where he rides in his triumphal splendour,
I am riding and rushing before!
30. 6. 1928