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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 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.]
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.
Madame, bear in mind
That princes govern all things--save the wind.
Madame, bear in mind
That princes govern all things--save the wind.
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?
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 hushed winds wail with feeble moan
Like infant charity.
The hushed winds wail with feeble moan
Like infant charity.
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.
As winds come whispering lightly from the West,
Kissing, not ruffling, the blue deep's serene.
As winds come whispering lightly from the West,
Kissing, not ruffling, the blue deep's serene.