SONG OF THE WIND.
I've cradled on the topsail, o'er a smooth and glassy deep,
Till mariners have whistled to arouse me from my sleep;
I've seen the lovegift kiss'd by him who had the watch aloft;
And breathed no ruffling whisper round the tress so dark and soft:
But lo! I started into life, I call'd the tempest band,
And soon the hull was on the rock, the spars were on the strand:
I snatch'd the glossy ringlet from the struggling sea-boy's breast,
And dropp'd it on the mountain-side within an eagle's nest.
Outwearied with my fierce career, I left the frantic train,
Whose lightning-brands and thunder-roars had helped the hurricane—
And, sinking into gentle mood, I took my lonely way,
Just breaking through the cobweb film, and dancing on the spray.
Till mariners have whistled to arouse me from my sleep;
I've seen the lovegift kiss'd by him who had the watch aloft;
And breathed no ruffling whisper round the tress so dark and soft:
But lo! I started into life, I call'd the tempest band,
And soon the hull was on the rock, the spars were on the strand:
I snatch'd the glossy ringlet from the struggling sea-boy's breast,
And dropp'd it on the mountain-side within an eagle's nest.
Outwearied with my fierce career, I left the frantic train,
Whose lightning-brands and thunder-roars had helped the hurricane—
And, sinking into gentle mood, I took my lonely way,
Just breaking through the cobweb film, and dancing on the spray.
A castle door was flinging wide, and straight I enter'd there,
Where rich aroma greeted me of luscious banquet-fare:
I travell'd on by silken walls, and loiter'd round the board;
Where forest-deer was smoking high, and bubbling flasks were pour'd.
Choked with the mingled odours nigh, and sicken'd with the fume
Of hot and tainted revel breath, I left the palace-room:
I hasten'd to the harvest-fields, I scatter'd poppy leaves,
And plumed and purified my wings upon the harvest-sheaves.
Where rich aroma greeted me of luscious banquet-fare:
I travell'd on by silken walls, and loiter'd round the board;
Where forest-deer was smoking high, and bubbling flasks were pour'd.
Choked with the mingled odours nigh, and sicken'd with the fume
Of hot and tainted revel breath, I left the palace-room:
I hasten'd to the harvest-fields, I scatter'd poppy leaves,
And plumed and purified my wings upon the harvest-sheaves.
A young child came and stood to gaze on all things bright and sweet;
The butterfly was round his head, the wild-flower at his feet:
I grasped an airy thistle-tuft, I cried, "Come, follow me,"
And off he bounded, light and fast, and rare good sport had we.
Full long he strove with all his strength to gain the bubble prize,
As high and low it scudded on, and danced before his eyes;
Until his panting heart became half angry and half sad,
To think he had not caught a thing worth nothing if he had.
The butterfly was round his head, the wild-flower at his feet:
I grasped an airy thistle-tuft, I cried, "Come, follow me,"
And off he bounded, light and fast, and rare good sport had we.
Full long he strove with all his strength to gain the bubble prize,
As high and low it scudded on, and danced before his eyes;
Until his panting heart became half angry and half sad,
To think he had not caught a thing worth nothing if he had.
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