Naked night; black elms, pallid and streaming sky! <br />Alone with the passion of the Wind, <br />In a hollow of stormy sound lost and alone am I, <br />On beaten earth a lost, unmated mind, <br />Marvelling at the stars, few, strange, and bright, <br />That all this dark assault of surging air, <br />Wrenching the rooted wood, hunting the cloud of night, <br />As if it would tear all and nothing spare, <br />Leaves supreme in the height. <br /> <br />Against what laws, what laws, what powers invisible, <br />Unsought yet always found, <br />Cries this dumb passion, strains this wrestle of wild will, <br />With tiger--leaps that seem to shake the ground? <br />Is it the baffled, homeless, rebel wind's crying <br />Or storm from a profounder passion wrung? <br />Ah, heart of man, is it you, the old powers defying, <br />By far desires and terrible beauty stung, <br />Broken on laws unseen, in a starry world dying <br />Ignorant, tameless, young?<br /><br />Robert Laurence Binyon<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wind-at-midnight/
