A black crack of noise in the
street here, alack, bawled back. Loud on left
Thor thundered: in anger awful the hammerhurler.
Came now the storm that hist his heart. And
Master Lynch bade him have a care to flout
and witwanton as the god self was angered for
his hellprate and paganty. And he that had
erst challenged to be so doughty waxed wan
as they might all mark and shrank together
and his pitch that was before so haught uplift
was now of a sudden quite plucked down and
his heart shook within the cage of his breast
as he tasted the rumour of that storm.
JAMES JOYCE,
Ulysses, p. 323., 14/408-415 |
