In Memoriam A. H. H.: 15. To-night the winds begin to rise

To-night the winds begin to rise
        And roar from yonder dropping day:
        The last red leaf is whirl'd away,
    The rooks are blown about the skies;
    The forest crack'd, the waters curl'd,
        The cattle huddled on the lea;
        And wildly dash'd on tower and tree
    The sunbeam strikes along the world:
    And but for fancies, which aver
       That all thy motions gently pass
       Athwart a plane of molten glass,
   I scarce could brook the strain and stir

   That makes the barren branches loud;
       And but for fear it is not so,
       The wild unrest that lives in woe
   Would dote and pore on yonder cloud

   That rises upward always higher,
       And onward drags a labouring breast,
       And topples round the dreary west,
   A looming bastion fringed with fire.