Poems (Craik)/North Wind

by Dinah Maria Craik

NORTH WIND.

OUD wind, strong wind, sweeping o'er the mountains,
 Fresh wind, free wind, blowing from the sea,
Pour forth thy vials like streams from airy fountains,
 Draughts of life to me.

Clear wind, cold wind, like a Northern giant,
 Stars brightly threading thy cloud-driven hair,
Thrilling the blank night with thy voice defiant,
 Lo! I meet thee there.

Wild wind, bold wind, like a strong-armed angel,
 Clasp me and kiss me with thy kisses divine;
Breathe in this dulled ear thy secret sweet evangel—
 Mine—and only mine.

Fierce wind, mad wind, howling o'er the nations,
 Knew'st thou how leapeth my heart as thou goest by:
Ah, thou wouldst pause awhile in a sudden patience
 Like a human sigh.

Sharp wind, keen wind, cutting as word-arrows,
 Empty thy quiverful! pass by! What is 't to thee,
That in some mortal eyes life's whole bright circle narrows,
 To one misery?

Loud wind, strong wind, stay thou in the mountains,
 Fresh wind, free wind, trouble not the sea.
Or lay thy deathly hand upon my heart's warm fountains,
 That I hear not thee.