[ Home | Titles | Comment | Search ] [option bar] On The Nature Of Things by Titus Lucretius Carus Written 50 B.C. Translated By William Ellery Leonard [ Book VI - Proem | Book VI - Extraordinary And Paradoxical Telluric Phenomena | summary page ] -------------------------------------------------------------------- Book VI - Great Meteorological Phenomena, Etc And so in first place, then With thunder are shaken the blue deeps of heaven, Because the ethereal clouds, scudding aloft, Together clash, what time 'gainst one another The winds are battling. For never a sound there come From out the serene regions of the sky; But wheresoever in a host more dense The clouds foregather, thence more often comes A crash with mighty rumbling. And, again, Clouds cannot be of so condensed a frame As stones and timbers, nor again so fine As mists and flying smoke; for then perforce They'd either fall, borne down by their brute weight, Like stones, or, like the smoke, they'd powerless be To keep their mass, or to retain within Frore snows and storms of hail. And they give forth O'er skiey levels of the spreading world A sound on high, as linen-awning, stretched O'er mighty theatres, gives forth at times A cracking roar, when much 'tis beaten about Betwixt the poles and cross-beams. Sometimes, too, Asunder rent by wanton gusts, it raves And imitates the tearing sound of sheets Of paper- even this kind of noise thou mayst In thunder hear- or sound as when winds whirl With lashings and do buffet about in air A hanging cloth and flying paper-sheets. For sometimes, too, it chances that the clouds Cannot together crash head-on, but rather Move side-wise and with motions contrary Graze each the other's body without speed, From whence that dry sound grateth on our ears, So long drawn-out, until the clouds have passed From out their close positions. And, again, In following wise all things seem oft to quake At shock of heavy thunder, and mightiest walls Of the wide reaches of the upper world There on the instant to have sprung apart, Riven asunder, what time a gathered blast Of the fierce hurricane hath all at once Twisted its way into a mass of clouds, And, there enclosed, ever more and more Compelleth by its spinning whirl the cloud To grow all hollow with a thickened crust Surrounding; for thereafter, when the force And the keen onset of the wind have weakened That crust, lo, then the cloud, to-split in twain, Gives forth a hideous crash with bang and boom. No marvel this; since oft a bladder small, Filled up with air, will, when of sudden burst, Give forth a like large sound. There's reason, too, Why clouds make sounds, as through them blow the winds: We see, borne down the sky, oft shapes of clouds Rough-edged or branched many forky ways; And 'tis the same, as when the sudden flaws Of northwest wind through the dense forest blow, Making the leaves to sough and limbs to crash. It happens too at times that roused force Of the fierce hurricane to-rends the cloud, Breaking right through it by a front assault; For what a blast of wind may do up there Is manifest from facts when here on earth A blast more gentle yet uptwists tall trees And sucks them madly from their deepest roots. Besides, among the clouds are waves, and these Give, as they roughly break, a rumbling roar; As when along deep streams or the great sea Breaks the loud surf. It happens, too, whenever Out from one cloud into another falls The fiery energy of thunderbolt, That straightaway the cloud, if full of wet, Extinguishes the fire with mighty noise; As iron, white from the hot furnaces, Sizzles, when speedily we've plunged its glow Down the cold water. Further, if a cloud More dry receive the fire, 'twill suddenly Kindle to flame and burn with monstrous sound, As if a flame with whirl of winds should range Along the laurel-tressed mountains far, Upburning with its vast assault those trees; Nor is there aught that in the crackling flame Consumes with sound more terrible to man Than Delphic laurel of Apollo lord. Oft, too, the multitudinous crash of ice And down-pour of swift hail gives forth a sound Among the mighty clouds on high; for when The wind hath packed them close, each mountain mass Of rain-cloud, there congealed utterly And mixed with hail-stones, breaks and booms... Likewise, it lightens, when the clouds have struck, By their collision, forth the seeds of fire: As if a stone should smite a stone or steel, For light then too leaps forth and fire then scatters The shining sparks. But with our ears we get The thunder after eyes behold the flash, Because forever things arrive the ears More tardily than the eyes- as thou mayst see From this example too: when markest thou Some man far yonder felling a great tree With double-edged ax, it comes to pass Thine eye beholds the swinging stroke before The blow gives forth a sound athrough thine ears: Thus also we behold the flashing ere We hear the thunder, which discharged is At same time with the fire and by same cause, Born of the same collision. In following wise The clouds suffuse with leaping light the lands, And the storm flashes with tremulous elan: When the wind hath invaded a cloud, and, whirling there, Hath wrought (as I have shown above) the cloud Into a hollow with a thickened crust, It becomes hot of own velocity: Just as thou seest how motion will o'erheat And set ablaze all objects- verily A leaden ball, hurtling through length of space, Even melts. Therefore, when this same wind a-fire Hath split black cloud, it scatters the fire-seeds, Which, so to say, have been pressed out by force Of sudden from the cloud- and these do make The pulsing flashes of flame; thence followeth The detonation which attacks our ears More tardily than aught which comes along Unto the sight of eyeballs. This takes place- As know thou mayst- at times when clouds are dense And one upon the other piled aloft With wonderful upheavings- nor be thou Deceived because we see how broad their base From underneath, and not how high they tower. For make thine observations at a time When winds shall bear athwart the horizon's blue Clouds like to mountain-ranges moving on, Or when about the sides of mighty peaks Thou seest them one upon the other massed And burdening downward, anchored in high repose, With the winds sepulchred on all sides round: Then canst thou know their mighty masses, then Canst view their caverns, as if builded there Of beetling crags; which, when the hurricanes In gathered storm have filled utterly, Then, prisoned in clouds, they rave around With mighty roarings, and within those dens Bluster like savage beasts, and now from here, And now from there, send growlings through the clouds, And seeking an outlet, whirl themselves about, And roll from 'mid the clouds the seeds of fire, And heap them multitudinously there, And in the hollow furnaces within Wheel flame around, until from bursted cloud In forky flashes they have gleamed forth. Again, from following cause it comes to pass That yon swift golden hue of liquid fire Darts downward to the earth: because the clouds Themselves must hold abundant seeds of fire; For, when they be without all moisture, then They be for most part of a flamy hue And a resplendent. And, indeed, they must Even from the light of sun unto themselves Take multitudinous seeds, and so perforce Redden and pour their bright fires all abroad. And therefore, when the wind hath driven and thrust, Hath forced and squeezed into one spot these clouds, They pour abroad the seeds of fire pressed out, Which make to flash these colours of the flame. Likewise, it lightens also when the clouds Grow rare and thin along the sky; for, when The wind with gentle touch unravels them And breaketh asunder as they move, those seeds Which make the lightnings must by nature fall; At such an hour the horizon lightens round Without the hideous terror of dread noise And skiey uproar. To proceed apace, What sort of nature thunderbolts posses Is by their strokes made manifest and by The brand-marks of their searing heat on things, And by the scorched scars exhaling round The heavy fumes of sulphur. For all these Are marks, O not of wind or rain, but fire. Again, they often enkindle even the roofs Of houses and inside the very rooms With swift flame hold a fierce dominion. Know thou that Nature fashioned this fire Subtler than fires all other, with minute And dartling bodies- a fire 'gainst which there's naught Can in the least hold out: the thunderbolt, The mighty, passes through the hedging walls Of houses, like to voices or a shout- Through stones, through bronze it passes, and it melts Upon the instant bronze and gold; and makes, Likewise, the wines sudden to vanish forth, The wine-jars intact- because, ye see, Its heat arriving renders loose and porous Readily all the wine- jar's earthen sides, And winding its way within, it scattereth The elements primordial of the wine With speedy dissolution- process which Even in an age the fiery steam of sun Could not accomplish, however puissant he With his hot coruscations: so much more Agile and overpowering is this force. Now in what manner engendered are these things, How fashioned of such impetuous strength As to cleave towers asunder, and houses all To overtopple, and to wrench apart Timbers and beams, and heroes' monuments To pile in ruins and upheave amain, And to take breath forever out of men, And to o'erthrow the cattle everywhere,- Yes, by what force the lightnings do all this, All this and more, I will unfold to thee, Nor longer keep thee in mere promises. The bolts of thunder, then, must be conceived As all begotten in those crasser clouds Up-piled aloft; for, from the sky serene And from the clouds of lighter density, None are sent forth forever. That 'tis so Beyond a doubt, fact plain to sense declares: To wit, at such a time the densed clouds So mass themselves through all the upper air That we might think that round about all murk Had parted forth from Acheron and filled The mighty vaults of sky- so grievously, As gathers thus the storm-clouds' gruesome might, Do faces of black horror hang on high- When tempest begins its thunderbolts to forge. Besides, full often also out at sea A blackest thunderhead, like cataract Of pitch hurled down from heaven, and far away Bulging with murkiness, down on the waves Falls with vast uproar, and draws on amain The darkling tempests big with thunderbolts And hurricanes, itself the while so crammed Tremendously with fires and winds, that even Back on the lands the people shudder round And seek for cover. Therefore, as I said, The storm must be conceived as o'er our head Towering most high; for never would the clouds O'erwhelm the lands with such a massy dark, Unless up-builded heap on lofty heap, To shut the round sun off. Nor could the clouds, As on they come, engulf with rain so vast As thus to make the rivers overflow And fields to float, if ether were not thus Furnished with lofty-piled clouds. Lo, then, Here be all things fulfilled with winds and fires- Hence the long lightnings and the thunders loud. For, verily, I've taught thee even now How cavernous clouds hold seeds innumerable Of fiery exhalations, and they must From off the sunbeams and the heat of these Take many still. And so, when that same wind (Which, haply, into one region of the sky Collects those clouds) hath pressed from out the same The many fiery seeds, and with that fire Hath at the same time intermixed itself, O then and there that wind, a whirlwind now, Deep in the belly of the cloud spins round In narrow confines, and sharpens there inside In glowing furnaces the thunderbolt. For in a two-fold manner is that wind Enkindled all: it trembles into heat Both by its own velocity and by Repeated touch of fire. Thereafter, when The energy of wind is heated through And the fierce impulse of the fire hath sped Deeply within, O then the thunderbolt, Now ripened, so to say, doth suddenly Splinter the cloud, and the aroused flash Leaps onward, lumining with forky light All places round. And followeth anon A clap so heavy that the skiey vaults, As if asunder burst, seem from on high To engulf the earth. Then fearfully a quake Pervades the lands, and 'long the lofty skies Run the far rumblings. For at such a time Nigh the whole tempest quakes, shook through and through, And roused are the roarings- from which shock Comes such resounding and abounding rain, That all the murky ether seems to turn Now into rain, and, as it tumbles down, To summon the fields back to primeval floods: So big the rains that be sent down on men By burst of cloud and by the hurricane, What time the thunder-clap, from burning bolt That cracks the cloud, flies forth along. At times The force of wind, excited from without, Smiteth into a cloud already hot With a ripe thunderbolt. And when that wind Hath splintered that cloud, then down there cleaves forthwith Yon fiery coil of flame which still we call, Even with our fathers' word, a thunderbolt. The same thing haps toward every other side Whither that force hath swept. It happens, too, That sometimes force of wind, though hurtled forth Without all fire, yet in its voyage through space Igniteth, whilst it comes along, along- Losing some larger bodies which cannot Pass, like the others, through the bulks of air- And, scraping together out of air itself Some smaller bodies, carries them along, And these, commingling, by their flight make fire: Much in the manner as oft a leaden ball Grows hot upon its aery course, the while It loseth many bodies of stark cold And taketh into itself along the air New particles of fire. It happens, too, That force of blow itself arouses fire, When force of wind, a-cold and hurtled forth Without all fire, hath strook somewhere amain- No marvel, because, when with terrific stroke 'Thas smitten, the elements of fiery-stuff Can stream together from out the very wind And, simultaneously, from out that thing Which then and there receives the stroke: as flies The fire when with the steel we hack the stone; Nor yet, because the force of steel's a-cold, Rush the less speedily together there Under the stroke its seeds of radiance hot. And therefore, thuswise must an object too Be kindled by a thunderbolt, if haply 'Thas been adapt and suited to the flames. Yet force of wind must not be rashly deemed As altogether and entirely cold- That force which is discharged from on high With such stupendous power; but if 'tis not Upon its course already kindled with fire, It yet arriveth warmed and mixed with heat. And, now, the speed and stroke of thunderbolt Is so tremendous, and with glide so swift Those thunderbolts rush on and down, because Their roused force itself collects itself First always in the clouds, and then prepares For the huge effort of their going-forth; Next, when the cloud no longer can retain The increment of their fierce impetus, Their force is pressed out, and therefore flies With impetus so wondrous, like to shots Hurled from the powerful Roman catapults. Note, too, this force consists of elements Both small and smooth, nor is there aught that can With ease resist such nature. For it darts Between and enters through the pores of things; And so it never falters in delay Despite innumerable collisions, but Flies shooting onward with a swift elan. Next, since by nature always every weight Bears downward, doubled is the swiftness then And that elan is still more wild and dread, When, verily, to weight are added blows, So that more madly and more fiercely then The thunderbolt shakes into shivers all That blocks its path, following on its way. Then, too, because it comes along, along With one continuing elan, it must Take on velocity anew, anew, Which still increases as it goes, and ever Augments the bolt's vast powers and to the blow Gives larger vigour; for it forces all, All of the thunder's seeds of fire, to sweep In a straight line unto one place, as 'twere,- Casting them one by other, as they roll, Into that onward course. Again, perchance, In coming along, it pulls from out the air Some certain bodies, which by their own blows Enkindle its velocity. And, lo, It comes through objects leaving them unharmed, It goes through many things and leaves them whole, Because the liquid fire flieth along Athrough their pores. And much it does transfix, When these primordial atoms of the bolt Have fallen upon the atoms of these things Precisely where the intertwined atoms Are held together. And, further, easily Brass it unbinds and quickly fuseth gold, Because its force is so minutely made Of tiny parts and elements so smooth That easily they wind their way within, And, when once in, quickly unbind all knots And loosen all the bonds of union there. And most in autumn is shaken the house of heaven, The house so studded with the glittering stars, And the whole earth around- most too in spring When flowery times unfold themselves: for, lo, In the cold season is there lack of fire, And winds are scanty in the hot, and clouds Have not so dense a bulk. But when, indeed, The seasons of heaven are betwixt these twain, The divers causes of the thunderbolt Then all concur; for then both cold and heat Are mixed in the cross-seas of the year, So that a discord rises among things And air in vast tumultuosity Billows, infuriate with the fires and winds- Of which the both are needed by the cloud For fabrication of the thunderbolt. For the first part of heat and last of cold Is the time of spring; wherefore must things unlike Do battle one with other, and, when mixed, Tumultuously rage. And when rolls round The latest heat mixed with the earliest chill- The time which bears the name of autumn- then Likewise fierce cold-spells wrestle with fierce heats. On this account these seasons of the year Are nominated "cross-seas."- And no marvel If in those times the thunderbolts prevail And storms are roused turbulent in heaven, Since then both sides in dubious warfare rage Tumultuously, the one with flames, the other With winds and with waters mixed with winds. This, this it is, O Memmius, to see through The very nature of fire-fraught thunderbolt; O this it is to mark by what blind force It maketh each effect, and not, O not To unwind Etrurian scrolls oracular, Inquiring tokens of occult will of gods, Even as to whence the flying flame hath come, Or to which half of heaven it turns, or how Through walled places it hath wound its way, Or, after proving its dominion there, How it hath speeded forth from thence amain, Or what the thunderstroke portends of ill From out high heaven. But if Jupiter And other gods shake those refulgent vaults With dread reverberations and hurl fire Whither it pleases each, why smite they not Mortals of reckless and revolting crimes, That such may pant from a transpierced breast Forth flames of the red levin- unto men A drastic lesson?- why is rather he- O he self-conscious of no foul offence- Involved in flames, though innocent, and clasped Up-caught in skiey whirlwind and in fire? Nay, why, then, aim they at eternal wastes, And spend themselves in vain?- perchance, even so To exercise their arms and strengthen shoulders? Why suffer they the Father's javelin To be so blunted on the earth? And why Doth he himself allow it, nor spare the same Even for his enemies? O why most oft Aims he at lofty places? Why behold we Marks of his lightnings most on mountain tops? Then for what reason shoots he at the sea?- What sacrilege have waves and bulk of brine And floating fields of foam been guilty of? Besides, if 'tis his will that we beware Against the lightning-stroke, why feareth he To grant us power for to behold the shot? And, contrariwise, if wills he to o'erwhelm us, Quite off our guard, with fire, why thunders he Off in yon quarter, so that we may shun? Why rouseth he beforehand darkling air And the far din and rumblings? And O how Canst thou believe he shoots at one same time Into diverse directions? Or darest thou Contend that never hath it come to pass That divers strokes have happened at one time? But oft and often hath it come to pass, And often still it must, that, even as showers And rains o'er many regions fall, so too Dart many thunderbolts at one same time. Again, why never hurtles Jupiter A bolt upon the lands nor pours abroad Clap upon clap, when skies are cloudless all? Or, say, doth he, so soon as ever the clouds Have come thereunder, then into the same Descend in person, and that from thence he may Near-by decide upon the stroke of shaft? And, lastly, why, with devastating bolt Shakes he asunder holy shrines of gods And his own thrones of splendour, and to-breaks The well-wrought idols of divinities, And robs of glory his own images By wound of violence? But to return apace, Easy it is from these same facts to know In just what wise those things (which from their sort The Greeks have named "bellows") do come down, Discharged from on high, upon the seas. For it haps that sometimes from the sky descends Upon the seas a column, as if pushed, Round which the surges seethe, tremendously Aroused by puffing gusts; and whatso'er Of ships are caught within that tumult then Come into extreme peril, dashed along. This haps when sometimes wind's aroused force Can't burst the cloud it tries to, but down-weighs That cloud, until 'tis like a column from sky Upon the seas pushed downward- gradually, As if a Somewhat from on high were shoved By fist and nether thrust of arm, and lengthened Far to the waves. And when the force of wind Hath rived this cloud, from out the cloud it rushes Down on the seas, and starts among the waves A wondrous seething, for the eddying whirl Descends and downward draws along with it That cloud of ductile body. And soon as ever 'Thas shoved unto the levels of the main That laden cloud, the whirl suddenly then Plunges its whole self into the waters there And rouses all the sea with monstrous roar, Constraining it to seethe. It happens too That very vortex of the wind involves Itself in clouds, scraping from out the air The seeds of cloud, and counterfeits, as 'twere, The "bellows" pushed from heaven. And when this shape Hath dropped upon the lands and burst apart, It belches forth immeasurable might Of whirlwind and of blast. Yet since 'tis formed At most but rarely, and on land the hills Must block its way, 'tis seen more oft out there On the broad prospect of the level main Along the free horizons. Into being The clouds condense, when in this upper space Of the high heaven have gathered suddenly, As round they flew, unnumbered particles- World's rougher ones, which can, though interlinked With scanty couplings, yet be fastened firm, The one on other caught. These particles First cause small clouds to form; and, thereupon, These catch the one on other and swarm in a flock And grow by their conjoining, and by winds Are borne along, along, until collects The tempest fury. Happens, too, the nearer The mountain summits neighbour to the sky, The more unceasingly their far crags smoke With the thick darkness of swart cloud, because When first the mists do form, ere ever the eyes Can there behold them (tenuous as they be), The carrier-winds will drive them up and on Unto the topmost summits of the mountain; And then at last it happens, when they be In vaster throng upgathered, that they can By this very condensation lie revealed, And that at same time they are seen to surge From very vertex of the mountain up Into far ether. For very fact and feeling, As we up-climb high mountains, proveth clear That windy are those upward regions free. Besides, the clothes hung-out along the shore, When in they take the clinging moisture, prove That Nature lifts from over all the sea Unnumbered particles. Whereby the more 'Tis manifest that many particles Even from the salt upheavings of the main Can rise together to augment the bulk Of massed clouds. For moistures in these twain Are near akin. Besides, from out all rivers, As well as from the land itself, we see Up-rising mists and steam, which like a breath Are forced out from them and borne aloft, To curtain heaven with their murk, and make, By slow foregathering, the skiey clouds. For, in addition, lo, the heat on high Of constellated ether burdens down Upon them, and by sort of condensation Weaveth beneath the azure firmament The reek of darkling cloud. It happens, too, That hither to the skies from the Beyond Do come those particles which make the clouds And flying thunderheads. For I have taught That this their number is innumerable And infinite the sum of the Abyss, And I have shown with what stupendous speed Those bodies fly and how they're wont to pass Amain through incommunicable space. Therefore, 'tis not exceeding strange, if oft In little time tempest and darkness cover With bulking thunderheads hanging on high The oceans and the lands, since everywhere Through all the narrow tubes of yonder ether, Yea, so to speak, through all the breathing-holes Of the great upper-world encompassing, There be for the primordial elements Exits and entrances. Now come, and how The rainy moisture thickens into being In the lofty clouds, and how upon the lands 'Tis then discharged in down-pour of large showers, I will unfold. And first triumphantly Will I persuade thee that up-rise together, With clouds themselves, full many seeds of water From out all things, and that they both increase- Both clouds and water which is in the clouds- In like proportion, as our frames increase In like proportion with our blood, as well As sweat or any moisture in our members. Besides, the clouds take in from time to time Much moisture risen from the broad marine,- Whilst the winds bear them o'er the mighty sea, Like hanging fleeces of white wool. Thuswise, Even from all rivers is there lifted up Moisture into the clouds. And when therein The seeds of water so many in many ways Have come together, augmented from all sides, The close-jammed clouds then struggle to discharge Their rain-storms for a two-fold reason: lo, The wind's force crowds them, and the very excess Of storm-clouds (massed in a vaster throng) Giveth an urge and pressure from above And makes the rains out-pour. Besides when, too, The clouds are winnowed by the winds, or scattered Smitten on top by heat of sun, they send Their rainy moisture, and distil their drops, Even as the wax, by fiery warmth on top, Wasteth and liquefies abundantly. But comes the violence of the bigger rains When violently the clouds are weighted down Both by their cumulated mass and by The onset of the wind. And rains are wont To endure awhile and to abide for long, When many seeds of waters are aroused, And clouds on clouds and racks on racks outstream In piled layers and are borne along From every quarter, and when all the earth Smoking exhales her moisture. At such a time When sun with beams amid the tempest-murk Hath shone against the showers of black rains, Then in the swart clouds there emerges bright The radiance of the bow. And as to things Not mentioned here which of themselves do grow Or of themselves are gendered, and all things Which in the clouds condense to being- all, Snow and the winds, hail and the hoar-frosts chill, And freezing, mighty force- of lakes and pools The mighty hardener, and mighty check Which in the winter curbeth everywhere The rivers as they go- 'tis easy still, Soon to discover and with mind to see How they all happen, whereby gendered, When once thou well hast understood just what Functions have been vouchsafed from of old Unto the procreant atoms of the world. Now come, and what the law of earthquakes is Hearken, and first of all take care to know That the under-earth, like to the earth around us, Is full of windy caverns all about; And many a pool and many a grim abyss She bears within her bosom, ay, and cliffs And jagged scarps; and many a river, hid Beneath her chine, rolls rapidly along Its billows and plunging boulders. For clear fact Requires that earth must be in every part Alike in constitution. Therefore, earth, With these things underneath affixed and set, Trembleth above, jarred by big down-tumblings, When time hath undermined the huge caves, The subterranean. Yea, whole mountains fall, And instantly from spot of that big jar There quiver the tremors far and wide abroad. And with good reason: since houses on the street Begin to quake throughout, when jarred by a cart Of no large weight; and, too, the furniture Within the house up-bounds, when a paving-block Gives either iron rim of the wheels a jolt. It happens, too, when some prodigious bulk Of age-worn soil is rolled from mountain slopes Into tremendous pools of water dark, That the reeling land itself is rocked about By the water's undulations; as a basin Sometimes won't come to rest until the fluid Within it ceases to be rocked about In random undulations. And besides, When subterranean winds, up-gathered there In the hollow deeps, bulk forward from one spot, And press with the big urge of mighty powers Against the lofty grottos, then the earth Bulks to that quarter whither push amain The headlong winds. Then all the builded houses Above ground- and the more, the higher up-reared Unto the sky- lean ominously, careening Into the same direction; and the beams, Wrenched forward, over-hang, ready to go. Yet dread men to believe that there awaits The nature of the mighty world a time Of doom and cataclysm, albeit they see So great a bulk of lands to bulge and break! And lest the winds blew back again, no force Could rein things in nor hold from sure career On to disaster. But now because those winds Blow back and forth in alternation strong, And, so to say, rallying charge again, And then repulsed retreat, on this account Earth oftener threatens than she brings to pass Collapses dire. For to one side she leans, Then back she sways; and after tottering Forward, recovers then her seats of poise. Thus, this is why whole houses rock, the roofs More than the middle stories, middle more Than lowest, and the lowest least of all. Arises, too, this same great earth-quaking, When wind and some prodigious force of air, Collected from without or down within The old telluric deeps, have hurled themselves Amain into those caverns sub-terrene, And there at first tumultuously chafe Among the vasty grottos, borne about In mad rotations, till their lashed force Aroused out-bursts abroad, and then and there, Riving the deep earth, makes a mighty chasm- What once in Syrian Sidon did befall, And once in Peloponnesian Aegium, Twain cities which such out-break of wild air And earth's convulsion, following hard upon, O'erthrew of old. And many a walled town, Besides, hath fall'n by such omnipotent Convulsions on the land, and in the sea Engulfed hath sunken many a city down With all its populace. But if, indeed, They burst not forth, yet is the very rush Of the wild air and fury-force of wind Then dissipated, like an ague-fit, Through the innumerable pores of earth, To set her all a-shake- even as a chill, When it hath gone into our marrow-bones, Sets us convulsively, despite ourselves, A-shivering and a-shaking. Therefore, men With two-fold terror bustle in alarm Through cities to and fro: they fear the roofs Above the head; and underfoot they dread The caverns, lest the nature of the earth Suddenly rend them open, and she gape, Herself asunder, with tremendous maw, And, all confounded, seek to chock it full With her own ruins. Let men, then, go on Feigning at will that heaven and earth shall be Inviolable, entrusted evermore To an eternal weal: and yet at times The very force of danger here at hand Prods them on some side with this goad of fear- This among others- that the earth, withdrawn Abruptly from under their feet, be hurried down, Down into the abyss, and the Sum-of-Things Be following after, utterly fordone, Till be but wrack and wreckage of a world. -------------------------------------------------------------------- [ Book VI - Proem | Book VI - Extraordinary And Paradoxical Telluric Phenomena | summary page ] [ Home | Titles | Comment | Search ] [option bar] The Tech Classics Archive Analytics