The wild winds weep, And the night is a-cold; Come hither, Sleep, And my griefs infold: But lo! the morning peeps Over the eastern steeps, And the rustling birds of dawn The earth do scorn. Lo! to the vault Of paved heaven, With sorrow fraught My notes are driven: They strike the ear of night, Make weep the eyes of day; They make mad the roaring winds, And with tempests play. Like a fiend in a cloud With howling woe, After night I do croud, And with night will go; I turn my back to the east, From whence comforts have increas'd; For light doth seize my brain With frantic pain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: FLETCHER MCGEE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS DOWN THE BROOK by ROBERT FROST A POEM FROM BOULDER RIDGE by JAMES GALVIN A POEM FROM THE EDGE OF AMERICA by JAMES GALVIN IVY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TEARS AND KISSES by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO GALLANT FRANCE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |