Fierce roars the midnight storm <br />O'er the wild mountain, <br />Dark clouds the night deform, <br />Swift rolls the fountain-- <br /> <br />See! o'er yon rocky height, <br />Dim mists are flying-- <br />See by the moon’s pale light, <br />Poor Laura's dying! <br /> <br />Shame and remorse shall howl, <br />By her false pillow-- <br />Fiercer than storms that roll, <br />O'er the white billow; <br /> <br />No hand her eyes to close, <br />When life is flying, <br />But she will find repose, <br />For Laura’s dying! <br /> <br />Then will I seek my love, <br />Then will I cheer her, <br />Then my esteem will prove, <br />When no friend is near her. <br /> <br />On her grave I will lie, <br />When life is parted, <br />On her grave I will die, <br />For the false hearted. <br /> <br />DECEMBER, 1809.<br /><br />Percy Bysshe Shelley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/song-fierce-roars-the-midnight-storm/
