And at night when the wind rose, the lash of the tree
Shrieked and slashed the wind, as a ship's
Weird ringging in a strom shrieks hideously.
Witnin the house two voices arouse, a splender lash
Whistling she-delirious rage, and the dreadful sound
Of a male thong booming and bruising, until it had drowned
The other voive in a silence of blood, 'neath the noise of the ash.
D. H. Lawrence