Charles Strong

I NEVER with such horror stood aghast,

As when, in lone Pompeii’s silent street,

I felt thy mighty pulse, Vesuvius, beat,

And from thy jaws saw burst the fiery blast.

Thunders were loud, and smoke in columns vast

Mantled the air with darkness, and strange heat

Warned the sad peasant from his vine-clad seat,

As down the fruitful slope the red stream passed.

I feared lest might return that dreadful hour,

When to their gods for help the people ran,

And there was none, in temple, nor in tower:

And to my vision came the enthusiast man,

Who perished in the breath of that foul shower,

Nature’s dread secrets obstinate to scan.