Explore "The Wind at Night" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I. Not till the wildman wind is shrill, / Howling upon the hill / In every wolfish tree, whose boisterous boughs, / Like desperate arms, gesture and beat the night, / And down huge clouds, in chasms of stormy white / The frightened moon hurries above the house, / Shall I lie down; and, deep, -- / Letting the mad wind keep / Its shouting revel round me, -- fall asleep.
II. Not till its dark halloo is hushed, / And where wild waters rushed, -- / Like some hoofed terror underneath its whip / And spur of foam, -- remains / A ghostly glass, hill-framed; whereover stains / Of moony mists and rains, / And stealthy starbeams, like vague specters, slip; / Shall I -- with thoughts that take / Unto themselves the ache / Of silence as a sound -- from sleep awake.