King Storm was sat up on a dark mountain cloud,
In his arm was strength and his voice was loud;
When he spoke to the winds they rush’d to his call,
And woe to the land where its echo might fall.
At his call the dark pine bow’d his head to the ground,
And the rivers rush’d wild o’er the bright flowered mound;
When he laugh’d in his rage youth bent his form,
‘Ha ha, do you know me now?’ cried bold King Storm.
The bark, in his pride, sailed over the dark main,
Ah, when will they see Earth’s bright valleys again?
King Storm from his throne sends his voice o’er the deep,
And the doom’d fated Crew, now eternally sleep.
‘Hark, many thousands speed round my dark throne,
The ocean’s my element, his sceptre my own;
The earth struck to dust, the world bends his form
‘Ha ha I’m the master now’, cries bold King Storm.
