"I dropped my pen; and listened to the Wind…"

                 I dropped my pen; and listened to the Wind
                 That sang of trees up-torn and vessels tost —
                 A midnight harmony; and wholly lost
                 To the general sense of men by chains confined
                 Of business, care, or pleasure, or resigned
                 To timely sleep. Thought I, the impassioned strain,
                 Which, without aid of numbers, I sustain,
                 Like acceptation from the World will find.
                 Yet some with apprehensive car shall drink
                 A dirge devoutly breathed o'er sorrows past:
                 And to the attendant promise will give heed —
                 The prophecy, — like that of this wild blast,
                 Which, while it makes the heart with sadness shrink,
                 Tells also of bright calms that shall succeed.

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