Storm: at the Farm Window by Robert Graves

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The unruly member (for relief / Of aching head) clacks without care; / Pastures lie sullen; hung with grief / The steading: thunder binds the air.

Gulls on the blue sea-surface rock: / The cows move lowing to scant shade; / Jess lays aside the half-worked smock, / Dan, in his ditch, lets fall the spade.

Now swoops the outrageous hurricane / With lightning in steep pitchfork jags; / The blanched hill leaps in sheeted rain, / Sea masses white to assault the crags.

Such menace tottering overhead, / Old Jess for ague scolds no more; / She sees grey bobtail flung down dead / Lightning-blazed by the barn door --

Wonder and panic chase our grief, / Purge our thick distempered blood; / Man, cattle, harvest shock and sheaf, / Stagger below the sluicing flood.

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