You saw perched on a cliff a maid, <br />Her raiment white above the breakers, <br />When the mad sea reared up and played <br />Its whips of spray on coastal acres <br />And now and then the lightnings flush, <br />And purple gleams upon her hover, <br />And fluttering up in swirling rush, <br />The wind rides in her airy cover? <br />Fair is the sea in gales arrayed, <br />The heavens drained of blue and flashing, <br />But fairer on her cliff the maid <br />Than storms and skies and breakers crashing.<br /><br />Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/tempest/
