Will.

Gruner, Nocturne, 1921

The night is darkening round me, 

The wild winds coldly blow; 

But a tyrant spell has bound me, 

And I cannot, cannot go. 

The giant trees are bending 

Their bare boughs weighed with snow; 

The storm is fast descending, 

And yet I cannot go. 

Clouds beyond clouds above me, 

Wastes beyond wastes below; 

But nothing drear can move me; 

Emily Brontë