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.]

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!

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.

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.

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.

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 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?

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.