In the dark night, from sweet refreshing sleep <br /> <br />I wake to hear outside my window-pane <br /> <br />The uncurbed fury of the wild spring rain, <br /> <br />And weird winds lashing the defiant deep, <br /> <br />And roar of floods that gather strength and leap <br /> <br />Down dizzy, wreck-strewn channels to the main. <br /> <br />I turn upon my pillow and again <br /> <br />Compose myself for slumber. <br /> <br />Let them sweep; <br /> <br />I once survived great floods, and do not fear, <br /> <br />Though ominous planets congregate, and seem <br /> <br />To foretell strange disasters. <br /> <br />From a dream— <br /> <br />Ah! dear God! such a dream!—I woke to hear, <br /> <br />Through the dense shadows lit by no star's gleam, <br /> <br />The rush of mighty waters on my ear. <br /> <br />Helpless, afraid, and all alone, I lay; <br /> <br />The floods had come upon me unaware. <br /> <br />I heard the crash of structures that were fair; <br /> <br />The bridges of fond hopes were swept away <br /> <br />By great salt waves of sorrow. In dismay <br /> <br />I saw by the red lightning's lurid glare <br /> <br />That on the rock-bound island of despair <br /> <br />I had been cast. Till the dim dawn of day <br /> <br />I heard my castles falling, and the roll <br /> <br />Of angry billows bearing to the sea <br /> <br />The broken timbers of my very soul. <br /> <br />Were all the pent-up waters from the whole <br /> <br />Stupendous solar system to break free, <br /> <br />There are no floods that now can frighten me.<br /><br />Ella Wheeler Wilcox<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/floods-2/
