There cam a Wind like a Bugle —
It quivered through the Grass
And a Green Chill upon the Heat
So ominous did pass
They barred the Window and the Doors
As from an Emerald Ghost —
The Doom’s electric Moccasin
The very instant passed —
On a strange Mob of panting Trees
And Fences fled away
And Rivers where the Houses ran
That living looked that Day —
The Bell within the steeple wild
The flying tidings whirled —
How much can come and much can go
And yet abide the World!