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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

An ill wind that bloweth no man good--
The blower of which blast is she.

An ill wind that bloweth no man good--
The blower of which blast is she.