<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=536348" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Storm In Summer</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nature that day a woman was in weakness,<br>A woman in her impotent high wrath.<br>At the dawn we watched it, a low cloud half seen<br>Under the sun; an innocent child's face<br>It seemed to us rose--red and fringed with light<br>Boding no hurt, a pure translucent cloud,<br>Deep in the East where the Sun's disk began.<br>We did not guess what strengths in it were pent,<br>What terrors of rebellion. An hour more,<br>And it had gathered volume and the form<br>Of a dark mask, the she--wolf's of old Rome,<br>The ears, the brow, the cold unpitying eyes,<br>Through which gleams flashed. And, as we watched, the roll<br>Of thunder from a red throat muttering<br>Gave menace of the wild beast close at hand.<br>Anon a wall of darkness in the South<br>Black to the Zenith, and a far--off wail,<br>The wind among the trees.--And then, behold,<br>Flying before it a mad clamorous rout<br>Of peewits, starlings, hawks, crows, dishwashers,<br>Blackbirds and jays, by hundreds, scattering,<br>While the Earth trembled holding as it were its breath;<br>Till suddenly an answer from the ground,<br>And the fields shook and a new mighty roar<br>Crashed through the oaks, and in a pent--up flow<br>The storm's rage broke in thunder overhead,<br>And all the anger of the passionate heaven<br>Burst into tears.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Wilfrid+Scawen+Blunt">Wilfrid Scawen Blunt</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=536348" data-title="A Storm In Summer de Wilfrid Scawen Blunt" data-description="Nature that day a woman was in weakness, A woman in her impotent high wrath. At the dawn we watched it, a low cloud half seen Under the sun; an innocent child's face It seemed to us rose--red and fringed with light Boding no hurt, a pure transluce..."></div> </div> </div>

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