Classic Poem

All night the storm raged, and the snow lies deep;
The wind roared on my rooftree like the sound
Of ocean when great breakers landward pound;
I heard the strong gusts by my window sweep,
And for delight of listening could not sleep.
The park is billowed with mound after mound;
Hardly may one familiar scene be found,
And still the wind and snow their fury keep.
I need no condolence for early rising.
I reach the city happier for the sight
Of these great mysteries — these dawns surprising —
The sky sometimes a miracle of light —
And who would find his Java appetizing,
Let him the aroma get by candle-light.