The lightnings trembled And in thy Silence was his Sentence, And in his Soul a vain repentance, And evil dread so ill dissembled, That in his hand the lightnings trembled. Lord Byron, Prometheus idefiancesilence
Dark satanic mills And did the Countenance Divine, Shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jerusalem builded here, Among these dark Satanic Mills? William Blake, And did those feet in ancient time Dark satanic steelStepping out of the firehose industry