Shelley Sunday: ‘A Dirge’

A Dirge

by Percy B. Shelley

 

Rough wind, that moanest loud
Grief too sad for song;
Wild wind, when sullen cloud
Knells all the night long;
Sad storm whose tears are vain, 
Bare woods, whose branches strain,
Deep caves and dreary main,–
Wail, for the world’s wrong! 

 

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Image Source: pth-forever

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