Explore "At Last" by James Whitcomb Riley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
A dark, tempestuous night; the stars shut in / With shrouds of fog; an inky, jet-black blot / The firmament; and where the moon has been / An hour agone seems like the darkest spot.
The weird wind -- furious at its demon game -- / Rattles one's fancy like a window-frame.