To-night the winds begin to rise <br /> And roar from yonder dropping day: <br /> The last red leaf is whirl'd away, <br /> The rooks are blown about the skies; <br /> The forest crack'd, the waters curl'd, <br /> The cattle huddled on the lea; <br /> And wildly dash'd on tower and tree <br /> The sunbeam strikes along the world: <br /> And but for fancies, which aver <br /> That all thy motions gently pass <br /> Athwart a plane of molten glass, <br /> I scarce could brook the strain and stir <br /> <br /> That makes the barren branches loud; <br /> And but for fear it is not so, <br /> The wild unrest that lives in woe <br /> Would dote and pore on yonder cloud <br /> <br /> That rises upward always higher, <br /> And onward drags a labouring breast, <br /> And topples round the dreary west, <br /> A looming bastion fringed with fire.<br /><br />Alfred Lord Tennyson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-memoriam-a-h-h-15-to-night-the-winds-begin-to/
