The hushed winds wail with feeble moan
Like infant charity.

The hushed winds wail with feeble moan
Like infant charity.

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?

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 wind, the wandering wind
Of the golden summer eyes--
Whence is the thrilling magic
read more

The wind, the wandering wind
Of the golden summer eyes--
Whence is the thrilling magic
Of its tunes amongst the leaves?
Oh, is it from the waters,
Or from the long, tall grass?
Or is it from the hollow rocks
Through which its breathings pass?

Wind of the sunny south! oh, still delay
In the gay woods and in the golden air,
read more

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.

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.

The wind moans, like a long wail from some despairing soul shut
out in the awful storm!

The wind moans, like a long wail from some despairing soul shut
out in the awful storm!

A litle wind kindles; much puts out the fire.
[A little wind kindles; much puts out the fire.]

A litle wind kindles; much puts out the fire.
[A little wind kindles; much puts out the fire.]

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.