Rough wind, that moanest loud <br />Grief too sad for song; <br />Wild wind, when sullen cloud <br />Knells all the night long; <br />Sad storm whose tears are vain, <br />Bare woods, whose branches strain, <br />Deep caves and dreary main,-- <br />Wail, for the world’s wrong!<br /><br />Percy Bysshe Shelley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-dirge-4/
