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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I hear the wind among the trees
Playing the celestial symphonies;
I see the branches downward bent,
read more
I hear the wind among the trees
Playing the celestial symphonies;
I see the branches downward bent,
Like keys of some great instrument.
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.
Perhaps the wind
Wails so in winter for the summer's dead,
And all sad sounds are nature's read more
Perhaps the wind
Wails so in winter for the summer's dead,
And all sad sounds are nature's funeral cries
For what has been and is not.
A breeze came wandering from the sky,
Light as the whispers of a dream;
He put the read more
A breeze came wandering from the sky,
Light as the whispers of a dream;
He put the o'erhanging grasses by,
And softly stooped to kiss the stream,
The pretty stream, the flattered stream,
The shy, yet unreluctant stream.
The wind is awake, pretty leave, pretty leaves,
Heed not what he says, he deceives, he deceives;
read more
The wind is awake, pretty leave, pretty leaves,
Heed not what he says, he deceives, he deceives;
Over and over
To the lowly clover
He has lisped the same love (and forgotten it, too).
He will be lisping and pledging to you.
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.
Where hast thou wandered. gentle gale, to find
The perfumes thou dost bring?
Where hast thou wandered. gentle gale, to find
The perfumes thou dost bring?
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.
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.
