The solid earth, before an angry God,
Shakes at the terrors of His awful nod.
The balance of the mighty world is lost—
Its vast foundations, in confusion toss'd,
Through all the hollows of its deepest caves
Rock like a vessel foundering in the waves.
Volumes of sulphurous air, with booming sound,
Burst through the gorges of the parted ground.
The earth doth heave, with groanings of distress,
Beneath the weight of human sinfulness.
Shall not our eyes drop penitential rain,
When all creation travaileth in pain?
Great God! who shall not fear Thee in the hour
When heaven and earth are trembling at Thy power!
Father, to nature's tumult whisper peace,
And bid the wickedness of man to cease!
Latin poem composed by Reverend Peter Bulkeley, Concord, Massachusetts, on the occasion of the 29 October 1653 earthquake; recorded by Cotton Mather.
