Ii

At dark the winds began to blow With mutterings distant, low; From sea and sky they called their strength Till with an angry, broken roar, Like billows on an unseen shore, Their fury burst at length.

I heard through the night The rush and the clamour; The pulse of the fight Like blows of Thor's hammer; The pattering flight Of the leaves, and the anguished Moan of the forest vanquished.

At daybreak came a gusty song: "Shout! the winds are strong. The little people of the leaves are fled. Shout! The Autumn is dead!"