The Ramayan by Valmiki

Then Rama, peerless in the skill That marks each sign of good and ill, Strained his dear brother to his breast, And thus with prudent words addressed: "Now, Lakshman, by the water's side In fruitful groves the host divide, That warriors of each woodland race May keep their own appointed place. Dire is the danger: loss of friends, Of Vanars and of bears, impends. Distained with dust the breezes blow, And earth is shaken from below. The tall hills rock from foot to crown, And stately trees come toppling down. In threatening shape, with voice of fear, The clouds like cannibals appear, And rain in fitful torrents, red With sanguinary drops, is shed. Long streaks of lurid light invest The evening skies from east to west. And from the sun at times a ball Of angry fire is seen to fall. From every glen and brake is heard The boding voice of beast and bird: From den and lair night-prowlers run And shriek against the falling sun. Up springs the moon, but hot and red Kills the sad night with woe and dread; No gentle lustre, but the gloom That heralds universal doom.