Explore "The Earthquake. Charleston, September 1, 1886" by James Whitcomb Riley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
An hour ago the lulling twilight leant / Above us like a gentle nurse who slips / A slow palm o'er our eyes, in soft eclipse / Of feigned slumber of most sweet content. / The fragrant zephyrs of the tropic went / And came across the senses, like to sips / Of lovers' kisses, when upon her lips / Silence sets finger in grave merriment. / Then -- sudden -- did the earth moan as it slept, / And start as one in evil dreams, and toss / Its peopled arms up, as the horror crept, / And with vast breast upheaved and rent across, / Fling down the storied citadel where wept, / And still shall weep, a world above its loss.