In thickened night, the fretful rapture came Awakened in the dryness of straw-dead summer’s mind Cursing in wide, breathy howling as it went Pushing lofty power over trees that blew and bent And so abhorred, slung wetness at the bind Sprung lifting up to cry, dew is not the same!
Though long before, rest its firm and lightless lid When pins of rain flecked the outer-skirting leaves Then devil-tales plucked on the heart threads of the breeze Tremulous, fought back the humble strain of ease In a flinch, at everything the sudden outburst heaves A brawling mass, to be still, the night, to be rid
Ahold impasse, our eyes, or thoughts before the scourge Our cares aside, as all else was left to smother Lightning-soaked, its crossing moods uncertain The moaning tantrum, and careening of its curtain At all greenery, and all the din saw fit to wuther We who watched, perturbed: the bright, dark, passing urge