And sunny days in spring. And O! the east wind carries Upon its scented sail, The tho’t of pink arbutus In some secluded vale. And how I’d like to gather When winds are in the west, A brace of orange blossoms To hold against my breast. But O! I love the south wind That breathes across the loam, For O! the tender south wind Just whispers dear “come home!” {9} Friend LAST night when I was watching shadows lengthen L From twilight into deeper, darker lines, The lazy river caught my little boat dear, And swept it in among the clinging vines.