Poem by Thomas Pringle

The Tornado

From the jungle-cumbered river
Comes a growl along the ground;
And the cattle start and shiver,
For they know full well the sound.

'Tis the lion, gaunt with hunger,
Glaring down the darkening glen;
But a fiercer Power and stronger
Drives him back into his den:
For the fiend Tornado rideth
Forth with Fear, his maniac bride,
Who by shipwrecked shores abideth,
With the she- wolf by her side.

Heard ye not the Demon flapping
His exulting wings aloud?
And his Mate her mad hands clapping
From yon scowling thunder -cloud?
By the fire-fiaucmVs gleamy flashing
The doomed Vessel ye may spy,
With the billows o'er her dashing —
Hark (Oh God!) that fearful cry!

Twice two hundred human voices
In that shriek came on the blast!
Ha ! the Tempest-Fiend rejoices—
For all earthly aid is past!
White as smoke the surf is showering
O'er the cliffs that seaward frown,
While the greedy gulf, devouring,
Like a dragon sucks them down! 

1. The Coranna
2. The Desolate Valley
3. Genadendal
4. The Hottentot
5. The Kosa

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