"High waving heather, beneath stormy blasts bending"
di Emily Brontë (1818-1848)

High waving heather, beneath stormy blasts bending,
Midnight and moonlight and bright shining stars;
Darkness and glory rejoicingly blending ,
Earth rising to heaven and heaven descending,
Man's spirit away from its deep dungeon sending,
Bursting the fetters and breaking the bars.
All down the mountain sides, wild forests lending
One mighty voice to the lifegiving wind;
Rivers their banks in the jubilee rending,
Fast thru the valleys a reckless course wending,
Wider and deeper their valleys extending,
Leaving a desolate desert behind.
Shining and lowering and swelling and dying
Changing forever from midnight to noon;
Roaring like thunder like soft music sighing,
Shadows on shadows advancing and flying,
Lightning-bright flashes the deep gloom defying,
Coming as swiftly and fading as soon.