~THE END CROWNS THE WORK~
Unmixed with aught of meaner tone, Here Nature's Voice is heard alone: When the loud storm, in wrathful hour, Is rushing on its wing of Power, And Spirits of the deep awake, And surges foam,and billows break, And rocks and ocean-caves around, Reverberate each awful sound; That mighty force,with all its dead control To loftiest thought shall wake thy thrilling soul. But when no more teh sea-winds rave, When peace tis brooding on the wave, And from Earth,air and ocean rise No sounds but plaintive melodies; Soothed by their softly mingling swell, As daylight bids the Worlds farewell, The rustling wood, the dying breeze, The faint,low rippling of the Seas, A tender calm shall steal upon yea breast A gleam reflected from the Stormreaver Realms of rest.
~The StormQueen~
As you wander about this strange new land, a bolt of lightning flashes,and you hear a voice greet you,from somewhere above,where there is naught but darkening clouds and raging thunder and lightning. THe tone is warm,but there is an iron discipline behind it, and part of you shrinks within at the thought of rousing the wrath of that which is the source of this voice from above.
"We bid yea welcome,traveller,mind yea though, while we wilt allow yea to remain,thou must honour our ways, our customs, and our land." "But ...what land is this?" You say as you look about you in confusion still seeking the source of the voice in your mind.
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