THE winter wind smites angrily
The palm of the gray sea;
The foam drives white across the beach, -
The clouds as black can be!
The sun drops suddenly downward thro'
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A lane of purple mist;
The clouds hang low; the waves run high;
And sea and sky have kist.
The wind is wroth, and madly hurls
The blinding volleys of spray
Westward, shoreward, growing louder
To the close o' the sombre day.
The long Cape groans and shudders
At the fierce blows of the storm;
But the village windows are lighted,
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Make up Mid-Year Examinations.
