POWER. 
 
THE mighty sound of forests murmuring 
In answer to the dread command ; 
The stars that shudder when their king 
Extends his hand, 
 
His awful hand to bless, to curse , or moves 
Toward the dimmest den 
In the thick leaves, not known of loves 
Or nymphs or men ; 
 
(Only the sylph’s frail gossamer may wave 
Their quiet frondage yet, 
Only her dewy tears may lave 
The violet ;) 
 
The mighty answer of the shaken sky 
To his supreme behest ;  the call 
 
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