A Night-Piece By Millet

Wind and sea and cloud and cloud-forsaking

Mirth of moonlight where the storm leaves free

Heaven awhile, for all the wrath of waking

  Wind and sea.

Bright with glad mad rapture, fierce with glee,

Laughs the moon, borne on past cloud's o'ertaking

Fast, it seems, as wind or sail can flee.

One blown sail beneath her, hardly making

Forth, wild-winged for harbourage yet to be,

Strives and leaps and pants beneath the breaking

  Wind and sea.