A Dirge
Shelley, Percy Bysshe (1792-1822)

Rough wind, that moanest loud
  Grief too sad for song;
Wild wind, when sullen cloud
  Knells all the night long;
Sad storm, whose tears are vain,
Bare woods, whose branches strain,
Deep caves and dreary main, --
  Wail, for the world's wrong!

The New Oxford Book of English Verse (Gardner)