Poems (Stoddard)/"On my bed of a winter night"
"ON MY BED OF A WINTER NIGHT."
ON my bed of a winter night,Deep in a sleep and deep in a dream,What care I for the wild wind's scream, What to me is its crooked flight?
On the sea of a summer day,Wrapped in the folds of a snowy sail,What care I for the fitful gale, Now in earnest, now in play?
What care I for the fitful wind,That groans in a gorge, or sighs in a tree?Groaning and sighing are nothing to me, For I am a man of steadfast mind.