Poem by Thomas MacDonagh

In Calm

Not a wind blows and I have cried for storm!
The night is still and sullen and too bright,
Still and not cold,-- the airs around me warm
Rise, and I hate them, and I hate the night.

Yet I shall hate the day more than the hush
Henceforth forever, as life more than death;--
And I have cried to hear the wild winds rush
To drown my words, to drown my living breath. 

1. In Dread
2. The Song of Joy
3. Averil
4. The Poet Saint
5. The Rain It Raineth

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