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Emily Dickinson - An awful Tempest mashed the airEmily Dickinson - An awful Tempest mashed the air
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198 An awful Tempest mashed the air — The clouds were gaunt, and few — A Black — as of a Spectre`s Cloak Hid Heaven and Earth from view. The creatures chuckled on the Roofs — And whistled in the air — And shook their fists — And gnashed their teeth — And swung their frenzied hair. The morning lit — the Birds arose — The Monster`s faded eyes Turned slowly to his native coast — And peace — was Paradise!
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