Of need and sense, forever chafe and pine;

Only in moods of some demonic birth

Our souls take fire, our flashing wings untwine;

Even like you, mad wind, above our broken prison,

With streaming hair and maddened eyes uprisen,

We dream ourselves divine;

Mad moods that come and go in some mysterious way,

That flash and fall, none knoweth how or why,

Oh wind, our brother, they are yours to-day,

The stormy joy, the sweeping mastery;

Deep in our narrow cells, we hear you, we awaken

With hands afret and bosoms strangely shaken,

We answer to your cry.

[Pg 37]

I most that love you, wind, when you are fierce and free,

In these dull fetters cannot long remain;

Lo, I will rise and break my thongs and flee

Forth to your drift and beating, till my brain

Even for an hour grow wild in your divine embraces,

And then creep back into mine earthly traces,

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