Weak and Weary I did Ponder

Weak and weary I did ponder

On the ways and wiles of wonder

While without the storm did thunder

‘Gainst my window-panes

Sole and sorely I considered

Songs of sorrow long-remembered

Still the storm incessant thundered

‘Gainst my window-panes.

Old and ornery I uttered

Unsuccessful isms spluttered

As the storm contesting thundered

‘Gainst my window-panes.

“Silence!” shouted I in anger

Looking down a pointed finger

At the sweeping storm that thundered

‘Gainst my window-panes.

“Be ye spirit or be specter,”

Said I (yes, I still remember),

“I care not, but stop your thunder

‘Gainst my window-panes!”

Then there came a rolling laughter

Saying “I am not a specter

That do whirl my wind and thunder

‘Gainst your window-panes.”

“I am but a stolen murmur

Of the wrong which you remember

Done to you, replied in thunder,

‘Gainst your window-panes.”

“I am but the foe of slumber

That your ponder would encumber

To remind how woe can thunder

‘Gainst your window-panes.”

“I am but the month September

One of twelve long months in member

That has come to ever-thunder

‘Gainst your window-panes.”

“I am but the word ‘remember’

Made into a thing of measure

Telling tales long-passed in thunder

‘Gainst your window-panes.”