Moveless Memories

Blow, autumn wind of this tempestuous night! 
Roar through this garden, and bear down these trees; 
Surely to-night thy voice is as the seas, 
And all my heart exultant in thy might! 
Lo! thou wast up before the morning light, 
And in the darkness thou dost take no ease; 
But ever thy wild clamor doth increase. 
As through thy waves the nightbirds wing their flight: 

Roar thyself hoarse, thy rage is all in vain, 
Thou canst not from this garden, or this grove, 
Drive forth the undying memories of love. 
Nor hush at all the sweet mysterious strain 
They sing, who never into sleep descend, 
But keep perpetual vigil to the end.