A January Night (1879)

The rain smites more and more,
The east wind snarls and sneezes;
Through the joints of the quivering door
   The water wheezes.

The tip of each ivy-shoot
Writhes on its neighbour's face;
There is some hid dread afoot
   That we cannot trace.

Is it the spirit astray
Of the man at the house below
Whose coffin they took in to-day?
   We do not know.

1 comment:

Melody Ambler said...

Hi, would it be possible to subscribe to your blog by email? My email ismelpekarek@sbcglobal.net and my name is Melody Ambler. I love your blog and would like to receive it regularly. Thank you. Melody