Classic Poem

Blue-black like the breast of the gusty sea,
Cumulus clouds where the sun goes down,
Stormful shadows against the gold,
Under the arches of even blown.

Nowhere a white bird beating the storm,
Nowhere a sunray gilding the sea;
Bud nor leaf on the orchard bough,
Butterfly, nor blossom, nor bee.

Yet to-night, where the blue waves beat,
Under the shadows, the storm-winds bring
Omen mysterious out of the dusk,
Out of the darkness the promise of Spring.