THE wind feels hard enough to-night To crack the stars, and bring them down; The wildly waving trees are bright With spindrift from the driving moon. All round the mountain peaks are curled Thin wispy trails of foaming cloud. The wind is hooting at the world, Or hissing like an angry crowd. I think I saw a little star Entangled in a knotty tree, As trembling fishes often are In nets that drag them from the sea. The winding tempest lifts and dips Between the earth and sparkling skies: It catches on my hair and lips; It splashes in my hair and eyes. Round, down and up the whirlwinds roar; Each roughly to the other cries... Wind, overturn the goblet, pour On me the everlasting skies! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOUR WORLD by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ASOLANDO: EPILOGUE by ROBERT BROWNING THE THREE MUSICIANS by AUBREY BEARDSLEY THE VANISHED MOUNTAINS by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE EURYDICE by FRANCIS WILLIAM BOURDILLON THOMAS A KEMPIS: DE IMITATIONE CHRISTI by RICHARD ROGERS BOWKER VERDANT GREEN AND THE CROW by ROBERT BRUCE |