Down the mountains darkly creeping,
Through the woodlands wildly sweeping,
        The storm bursts on the land.
                The rain is pouring,
                The wind is loudly roaring
        In tones sublime and grand.
Flashing, crashing, growling, grumbling, 
Rumbling, rumbling, rolling, rumbling,
                Comes the thunderstorm.

Round and round the birds are flying, 
Loudly screaming, sharply crying;
        They fear the falling rain.
                The windows rattle,
                The frightened sheep and cattle
        Come leaping down the lane.
Flashing, crashing, growling, grumbling, 
Rumbling, rumbling, rolling, rumbling,
        Comes the thunderstorm.

Soon the mountain-tops glow brightly,
And the raindrops patter lightly
        Upon the roof o'erhead;
                The sunbeams tender
                Break through the clouds in splendor,
        The thunderstormn has fled.
Flashing, crashing, growling, grumbling, 
Rumbling, rumbling, rolling, rumbling,
        Dies the thunderstorm.