Classic Poem

When winds rise in the night and moan and shriek,
And windows rattle, walls and chimneys shiver, —
Ah, then it is my heart's wild joy to seek
Next morn the bellowing river!

And grand the roaring scene, the murk eclipse —
Winds, waves, and clouds, in one wild mingled swelter —
The sea-dash'd piers, the tempest-beaten ships
That seek our haven for shelter;

The seamen's shouts, half stifled in the blast,
The anchors plunging and the cables rattling,
The flapping sails around the broken mast,
Men with the tempest battling:

A fine upheaving of all energy —
A quickening soul through man and Nature driven!
O River, with thy beaten piers, from thee
I come refresh'd and shriven!