To The Wind, At Midnight Poem by Henry Kirke White

To The Wind, At Midnight



Not unfamiliar to mine ear,
Blasts of the night! ye howl as now
My shuddering casement loud
With fitful force ye beat.

Mine ear has dwelt in silent awe,
The howling sweep, the sudden rush;
And when the passing gale
Pour'd deep the hollow dirge.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: howl
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