Of brakes of bramble, tousled into shreds,
And tangled wastes of briars—tumbling beds
For winds to toss on.—Once, across a farm,
Unsteadily, a lamp towards unseen sheds,—
Like the blurred glow of some ungainly worm,—
A watery wisp of light crawled trailing through the storm.
III
Then swallowing blackness of the night; and thin
The shrewd rain beat me and the rough limbs whipped
Of dwarfed, uneasy beeches. There within