Tempest of Cold
By the graves I felt the storm
shall Death bring his batters?
Eagerly I looked for cover;
loud thunderstorm drumming
of the tempest that is blowing.
'It's that beat,' I muttered swinging;
That vicious, vicious pounding,
and the floodwaters never inhaling
I sing the splendid sudden simoom;
screech louder than the tearing sails;
crave the becalmed, blowy bellows!
I ignore the smashing, severe sleet;
take thy lashing from out my heart.
I threw its ghost against the walls
I await the defeated, dreich drum,
here stands an unflustered peach.