A Spring Harvest/The South-west Wind
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THE SOUTH-WEST WIND
The south-west wind has blown his fill,
And vanished with departing day:
The air is warm, and very still,
And soft as silks of far Cathay.
And vanished with departing day:
The air is warm, and very still,
And soft as silks of far Cathay.
This is a night when spirits stray.
Their wan limbs bear them where they will;
They wring their pallid hands alway,
Seeing the lights upon the hill.
Their wan limbs bear them where they will;
They wring their pallid hands alway,
Seeing the lights upon the hill.