The wild winds weep br And the night is a-cold; br Come hither, Sleep, br And my griefs infold: br But lo! the morning peeps br Over the eastern steeps, br And the rustling birds of dawn br The earth do scorn. br br Lo! to the vault br Of paved heaven, br With sorrow fraught br My notes are driven: br They strike the ear of night, br Make weep the eyes of day; br They make mad the roaring winds, br And with tempests play. br br Like a fiend in a cloud, br With howling woe, br After night I do crowd, br And with night will go; br I turn my back to the east, br From whence comforts have increas'd; br For light doth seize my brain br With frantic pain.