Explore "Unutterable" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
/ There is a sorrow in the wind to-night / That haunteth me; she, like a penitent, / Heaps on rent hairs the snow's thin ashes white / And moans and moans, her swaying body bent.
/ And Superstition gliding softly shakes / With wasted hands, that vainly grope and seek, / The rustling curtains; of each cranny makes / Cold, ghostly lips that wailing fain would speak.