The rain and wind, the rain and wind, raved endlessly. On me the Summer storm, and fever, and melancholy Wrought magic, so that if I feared the solitude Far more I feared all company: too sharp, too rude, Had been the wisest or the dearest human voice. What I desired I knew not, but whate'er my choice Vain it must be, I knew. Yet naught did my despair But sweeten the strange sweetness, while through the wild air All day long I heard a distant cuckoo calling And, soft as dulcimers, sounds of near water falling, And, softer, and remote as if in history Rumors of what had touched my friends, my foes, or me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHERE A ROMAN VILLA STOOD, ABOVE FREIBURG' by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE THE TRAGEDY OF VALENTINIAN: THE POWER OF LOVE by JOHN FLETCHER THE COMING STORM' (A PICTURE BY R. S. GIFFORD) by HERMAN MELVILLE MORAL ESSAYS: EPISTLE 4. TO RICHARD BOYLE, EARL BURLINGTON by ALEXANDER POPE IN APIA BAY by CHARLES GEORGE DOUGLAS ROBERTS A SONG OF A YOUNG LADY TO HER ANCIENT LOVER by JOHN WILMOT THE COMBAT, BETWEENE CONSCIENCE AND COVETOUSNESSE by RICHARD BARNFIELD |