The gentle South Wind is a maiden sweet,
The friend of young lovers true.
She peeps through their arbor on moon-lit nights,
And sings as they bill and coo.
And her song lulls the tree-top babes to sleep;
While the flowers all over the land,
Dream peacefully on, as they’re slowly swayed
By this Goddess’s gentle hand.
Every one loves her, she’s so refined;—
So gentle, so light and neat.
She brings with her hundreds of singing birds,
And bundles of flowers sweet.
When she waves her wand o’er a northern clime
Where Winter has held his sway,
The cold, barren ground so long confined
Blooms forth into verdure gay.
Down where she lives, she likes to fly
O’er the coral reefs and isles,
Or wend her way through the tangled paths
Of the jungle’s depths for miles.
There, while the monkeys jump and dance,
She follows some shaded path
To the rivers, to watch the elephants
Enjoying their noon-day bath.
