Wind, wind,

Men have snatched an air or two

Of a fantasy from you

And have prisoned them in books to make them stay,

Scattered fragments that your lips have blown this way.[Pg 46]

[Pg 46]

Small and shy and thin and cramped and grave,

They are caged and tied to paper in a stave.

Do you mind,

Oh Wind?

But you laugh and troll out gaily on your way,

"Keep the fragments, little earth-men, dance and play,

'Tis a dainty roundelay,

Hold it, pray; hold it, pray.

For myself, my breath is fierce, myself am great,

For my tiny fallen airs I dare not wait;

Storms beneath my rushing wings unfurled

Roll the symphonies which dominate the world."

[Pg 47]

[Pg 47]

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