Uplifted darkness and the owl-light breaks,
Scuds the wild land, pursuing patch with patch,
As when deep daisy fields a swift wind shakes.—
How clumsily I raised the crazy latch!...
So.—When yon black cloud, light-absorbing, rakes
Again the moon's bald disk—
Out! and the storm will snatch
Again my hair, made lank with wind and rain
Two hours since.... There! from the ragged plain
A great cloud-besom sweeps the beams again!—