Get out the microscope, because we’re going through this poem line-by-line.
Lines 321-340
To-night the winds begin to rise
And roar from yonder dropping day:
The last red leaf is whirl'd away,
The rooks are blown about the skies;
The forest crack'd, the waters curl'd,
The cattle huddled on the lea;
And wildly dash'd on tower and tree
The sunbeam strikes along the world:
And but for fancies, which aver
That all thy motions gently pass
Athwart a plane of molten glass,
I scarce could brook the strain and stir
That makes the barren branches loud;
And but for fear it is not so,
The wild unrest that lives in woe
Would dote and pore on yonder cloud
That rises upward always higher,
And onward drags a labouring breast,
And topples round the dreary west,
A looming bastion fringed with fire.
- Time's passing, gang. We now appear to be heading into winter. The "last red leaf" (remember Canto 11?) has blown away and the branches are barren of leaves.
- And that whole "calm despair" thing from back in line 256? That seems to have gone right out the window. The speaker now has a "wild unrest" that is caused by his "woe" (sadness).