An awful Tempest mashed the air lyrics
by Emily Dickinson
An awful Tempest mashed the air
The clouds were gaunt, and few
A Black — as of a Spectre's Cloak
Hid Heaven and Earth from view
The creatures chuckled on the Roofs
And whistled in the air
And shook their fists
And gnashed their teeth
And swung their frenzied hair
The morning lit — the Birds arose
The Monster's faded eyes
Turned slowly to his native coast
And peace — was Paradise!