A January Night
The rain smites more and more, The east wind snarls and sneezes; Through the joints of the quivering door The water wheezes. The tip of each ivy-shoot Writhes on its neighbour's face; There is some hid dread afoot That we cannot trace. Is it the spirit astray Of the man at the house below Whose coffin they took in to-day? We do not know.
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"The rain smites more and more,..."
"A January Night" is a quintessential example of Thomas Hardy's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...