A Dirge

Rough wind, that moanest loud
Grief too sad for song;
Wild wind, when sullen cloud
Knells all the night long;
Sad storm whose tears are vain,
Bare woods, whose branches strain,
Deep caves and dreary main,--
Wail, for the world’s wrong!

by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Comments (19)

What but design of darkness and of night? Design, design! Do I use the word aright? Nature's design beautifully portrayed by Robert frost
To Frost’s closing question, we might debate. What stands out to me most in this poem is the great, the vivid, description. Of this sort, in my own work, is the poem Choices. -GK
The beady spider! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
Such a splendid poem by Robert Frost👍👍👍
Portent in little, assorted death and blight, wisely penned by Robert Frost
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