See, where on high the moving masses, piled
By the wind, break in groups grotesque and wild,
Present strange shapes to view;
Oft flares a pallid flash from out their shrouds,
As though some air-born giant 'mid the clouds
Sudden his falchion drew.
A Storm Simile
Victor Marie Hugo
(1)
Poem topics: wind, wild, high, view, strange, break, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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