 | Poems |  |
69
LXXI
HIGH WIND
The clouds before him rushed, as they
Were racing home to end the day;
The flying hair of the beeches flew
Out to the East as he went through.
Were racing home to end the day;
The flying hair of the beeches flew
Out to the East as he went through.
Only the hills unshaken stood.
The lake was tossed into a flood;
She flung her curling wavelets hoar
In wrath on the distracted shore.
The lake was tossed into a flood;
She flung her curling wavelets hoar
In wrath on the distracted shore.
Which of the elements hath sinned?
What hath angered thee, O wind?
Thou in all the earth dost see
Nought but it enrageth thee!
What hath angered thee, O wind?
Thou in all the earth dost see
Nought but it enrageth thee!
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