Poems (Hoffman)/Song of the Wind

by Martha Lavinia Hoffman

For works with similar titles, see Song of the Wind.

SONG OF THE WIND

O Wind! in all thy wingless flight,
 What treasure hast thou brought,
And com'st thou through the solemn night
 With good or evil fraught?

I hear the gladness in thy song,
 The sadness in thy wail;
As swift thou wing'st thy flight along
 O'er city, hill and vale.

The stately oaks before thee bow,
 And make obeisance low,
Oh, tell me, Wind, whence comest thou
 And whither dost thou go?

The shadows on my chamber floor
 Were playing hide and seek,
When through the storm's wild rush and roar
 The Wind's voice seemed to speak;

And in a deeper, mysterious tone
 Of solemn melody,
Told where its viewless wings had flown,
 And sang this song to me:

"I crossed the ocean's broad expanse,
 I wrecked the ships at sea,
I fanned the wavelets where they dance
 To music wild and free.

I echoed through the lonely caves,
 And played among the rocks;
I flung the sea-weed from the waves,
 And chased the gulls in flocks.

I rose above the sandy beach
 And many a jagged cliff,
Where, far beyond the breakers' reach,
 Their giant heads they lift.

I tossed the desert's burning sands
 O'er many an unknown tomb,
I saw the helpless caravans
 Sink 'neath the dread simoon.

I rustled through the stately palms,
 On many a southern isle;
I sang my sweet and mournful psalms
 Where tropic sunbeams smile.

I roamed through Nature's spacious park,
 Through scenes sublime and strange;
I roared through cañons deep and dark
 In many a rocky range.

I kissed the flowers on sunny days,
 And waved the golden grain,
And sang my morning hymns of praise
 Through many a leafy fane.

I frolicked with the pure snowflakes,
 I laughed among the trees;
And sang above the mountain lakes
 My sweetest symphonies.

Millions of brooklets join with mine
 Their faintly murmured chants,
Where through the forest's dim outline
 The flickering shadows dance.

And where the mighty river rolls
 Forever to the sea,
'Neath sunlit-skies and starry scrolls,
 We blend our melody.

From north to south, from east to west,
 I wander wild and free;
I have no wish to stop and rest,
 My home is land and sea.

Millions of years have heard my voice,
 And many more shall know
Sorrow and gladness, gain and loss,
 Ere I shall cease to blow.

Not useless, aimless, is my course,
 For He whose righteous will
Rules all this boundless universe,
 Can bid the winds be still.

For He at whose divine command
 I take my wandering flight,
O'er ocean waste, or desert sand,
 Marks out my path aright."