Here you will find thePoemNIght And Morningof poet Katharine Lee Bates
THE night was loud with tumult; trees were torn Sheer from their roots by the delirious wind; In some waste dreamland wandered all forlorn A smitten soul, bewildered, broken, blind. The mists had lifted; evanescent gleams Of tender emerald lighted every leaf, While from a casement smiled, escaped from dreams, A quiet face made exquisite by grief.
