Eruptive lightnings flutter to and fro Above the heights of immemorial hills; Thirst-stricken air, dumb-throated, in its woe Limply down-sagging, its limp body spills Upon the earth. A panting silence fills The empty vault of Night with shimmering bars Of sullen silver, where the lake distils Its misered bounty.—Hark! No whisper mars The utter silence of the untranslated stars.