Wind of the sunny south! oh, still delay
In the gay woods and in the golden air,
Like to a good old age released from care,
Journeying, in long serenity, away.
In such a bright, late quiet, would that I
Might wear out life like thee, mid bowers and brooks,
And, dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks,
And music of kind voices ever nigh;
And when my last sand twinkled in the glass,
Pass silently from men as thou dost pass.
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The wind's in the east. . . . I am always conscious of an
uncomfortable sensation now and then read more
The wind's in the east. . . . I am always conscious of an
uncomfortable sensation now and then when the wind is blowing in
the east.
To a crazy ship all winds are contrary.
To a crazy ship all winds are contrary.
The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound
thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, read more
The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound
thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it
goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit.
When the stormy winds do blow;
When the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds read more
When the stormy winds do blow;
When the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds do blow.
Bless the Lord, O my soul. O Lord my God, thou art very great;
thou art clothed with honour read more
Bless the Lord, O my soul. O Lord my God, thou art very great;
thou art clothed with honour and majesty.
Who coverest thyself with light as with a garment: who stretches
out the heavens like a curtain:
Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters: who maketh
the clouds his chariot: who walketh upon the wings of the wind:
Who maketh his angels spirits; his ministers a flaming fire:
Who laid the foundations of the earth, that it should not be
removed for ever.
In measure, when it shooteth forth, thou wilt debate with it: he
stayeth his rough wind in the day read more
In measure, when it shooteth forth, thou wilt debate with it: he
stayeth his rough wind in the day of the east wind.
Blow, Boreas, foe to human kind!
Blow, blustering, freezing, piercing wind!
Blow, that thy force I may read more
Blow, Boreas, foe to human kind!
Blow, blustering, freezing, piercing wind!
Blow, that thy force I may rehearse,
While all my thoughts congeal to verse!
The faint old man shall lean his silver head
To feel thee; thou shalt kiss the child asleep,
read more
The faint old man shall lean his silver head
To feel thee; thou shalt kiss the child asleep,
And dry the moistened curls that overspread
His temples, while his breathing grows more deep.
The winds that never moderation knew,
Afraid to blow too much, too faintly blew;
Or out of read more
The winds that never moderation knew,
Afraid to blow too much, too faintly blew;
Or out of breath with joy, could not enlarge
Their straighten'd lungs or conscious of their charge.
