How strange to sit in this fantastic place With day deposed by maniacal night Like breath indrawn by pain. Dumbly, I face The orgies of this bombastic night: The wind in grasp of blind, vandalic power, Uproots the trees and gapes the trusting land; It smacks to splinters, turret, spire and tower, And snatches roofs with clutch of greedy hand. Our homes lie prostrate on the pasture bed And human cries stampede the placid earth: "O, day of promise, are your pledges dead That rivers maul for death and mock their girth?" Look, men who dare by war to throne your pride -- Look where the hurricane has fought -- and died. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WHITE WOMEN by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE AT APRIL by ANGELINA WELD GRIMKE OVER THE RIVER by NANCY WOODBURY PRIEST DECEMBER 31ST by LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE WITH A COPY OF CALVERLEY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS INVITATION by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS |