Storm

How loud the storm sounds round the Hall!

From arch to arch, from door to door,

Pillar and roof and granite wall

Rock like a cradle in its roar.

That elm tree by the haunted well

Greets no returning summer skies:

Down with a rush the giant fell,

And stretched athwart the path it lies.

Hardly had passed the funeral train,

So long delayed by wind and snow;

And how they'll reach the house again

To-morrow's dawn perhaps will show.