MY people are gray,
pigeon gray, dawn gray, storm gray.
I call them beautiful,
and I wonder where they are going.
Should they whisper false of you.
Never trouble to deny;
Should the words they say be true,
Weep and storm and swear they lie.
Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
Sunshine let it be or frost,
Storm or calm, as Thou shalt choose;
Though Thine every gift were lost,
Thee Thyself we could not lose.
U was an upper-coat,
Woolly and warm,
To wear over all
In the snow or the storm.
What a nice upper-coat!
R was a Railway Rug
Extremely large and warm; Papa he wrapped it round his head,
In a most dreadful storm.
Wherever we turn in the storm of roses,
the night is lit up by thorns, and the thunder
of leaves, once so quiet within the bushes,
rumbling at our heels.
O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm.
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
FASTEN black eyes on me.
I ask nothing of you under the peach trees,
Fasten your black eyes in my gray with the spear of a storm.
The air under the peach blossoms is a haze of pink.
William Butler Yeats
A storm-beaten old watch-tower,
A blind hermit rings the hour.
All-destroying sword-blade still
Carried by the wandering fool.
Gold-sewn silk on the sword-blade,
Beauty and fool together laid.
The rainbow never tells me
That gust and storm are by,
Yet is she more convincing
My flowers turn from Forums --
Yet eloquent declare
What Cato couldn't prove me
Except the birds were here!
A Cap of Lead across the sky
Was tight and surly drawn
We could not find the mighty Face
The Figure was withdrawn --
A Chill came up as from a shaft
Our noon became a well
A Thunder storm combines the charms
Of Winter and of Hell.
From all the Jails the Boys and Girls
Ecstatically leap --
Beloved only Afternoon
That Prison doesn't keep
They storm the Earth and stun the Air,
A Mob of solid Bliss --
Alas -- that Frowns should lie in wait
For such a Foe as this --
George William Russell
THE SEA was hoary, hoary,
Beating on rock and cave:
The winds were white and weeping
With foam dust of the wave.
They thundered louder, louder,
With storm-lips curled in scorn—
And dost thou tremble before us,
O fallen star of morn?
RACE of veterans! Race of victors!
Race of the soil, ready for conflict! race of the conquering march!
(No more credulity’s race, abiding-temper’d race;)
Race henceforth owning no law but the law of itself;
Race of passion and the storm.
On this wondrous sea
Ho! Pilot, ho!
Knowest thou the shore
Where no breakers roar --
Where the storm is o'er?
In the peaceful west
Many the sails at rest --
The anchors fast --
Thither I pilot thee --
Land Ho! Eternity!
Ashore at last!
"Houses" -- so the Wise Men tell me --
"Mansions"! Mansions must be warm!
Mansions cannot let the tears in,
Mansions must exclude the storm!
"Many Mansions," by "his Father,"
I don't know him; snugly built!
Could the Children find the way there --
Some, would even trudge tonight!
In the profoundest ocean
There is a rainbow shell,
It is always there, shining most stilly
Under the greatest storm waves
That the old Greek called "ripples of laughter.
As you listen, the rainbow shell
Sings--in the profoundest ocean.
It is always there, singing most silently!
SAFE where I cannot die yet,
Safe where I hope to lie too,
Safe from the fume and the fret;
You, and you,
Whom I never forget.
Safe from the frost and the snow,
Safe from the storm and the sun,
Safe where the seeds wait to grow
One by one,
And to come back in blow.
Your voice on the telephone
Hushes the storm in my heart
Lightning strikes twice
In the same place.
I cannot picture your face
No photograph, no keepsake,
No letters scented with your smile,
No ring or marriage bed.
Your kisses were the best
I ever had, my first,
My only valentine.
Beneath the willow wound round with ivy
we take cover from the worst
of the storm, with a greatcoat round
our shoulders and my hands around your waist.
I've got it wrong.
That isn't ivy
entwined in the bushes round
the wood, but hops.
You intoxicate me!
Let's spread the greatcoat on the ground.
William Butler Yeats
She lived in storm and strife,
Her soul had such desire
For what proud death may bring
That it could not endure
The common good of life,
But lived as 'twere a king
That packed his marriage day
With banneret and pennon,
Trumpet and kettledrum,
And the outrageous cannon,
To bundle time away
That the night come.
Kill your Balm -- and its Odors bless you --
Bare your Jessamine -- to the storm --
And she will fling her maddest perfume --
Haply -- your Summer night to Charm --
Stab the Bird -- that built in your bosom --
Oh, could you catch her last Refrain --
Bubble! "forgive" -- "Some better" -- Bubble!
"Carol for Him -- when I am gone"!
WHILE the hum and the hurry
Of passing footfalls
Beat in my ear like the restless surf
Of a wind-blown sea,
A soul came to me
Out of the look on a face.
Eyes like a lake
Where a storm-wind roams
Caught me from under
The rim of a hat.
I thought of a midsea wreck
and bruised fingers clinging
to a broken state-room door.
Mark Van Doren
Listen, The wind is still,
And far away in the night --
See! The uplands fill
With a running light.
Open the doors.
It is warm;
And where the sky was clear--
Look! The head of a storm
That marches here!
Come under the trembling hedge--
Fast, although you fumble.
There! Did you hear the edge
of winter crumble
Would I might rouse the Lincoln in you all,
That which is gendered in the wilderness
From lonely prairies and God's tenderness.
Imperial soul, star of a weedy stream,
Born where the ghosts of buffaloes still dream,
Whose spirit hoof-beats storm above his grave,
Above that breast of earth and prairie-fire —
Fire that freed the slave.