Poems (Van Rensselaer)/Four Winds
FOUR WINDS
Jubilant sounded on my marriage-morn
The west wind's feet;
The south wind, the soft night my babe was born,
Sang low and sweet;
Above two open graves the east wind blew
His wailing blast;
The north wind calls now I am passing too,
At last, at last.
The west wind's feet;
The south wind, the soft night my babe was born,
Sang low and sweet;
Above two open graves the east wind blew
His wailing blast;
The north wind calls now I am passing too,
At last, at last.
Blow strong, blow swift, and on thy pinions bear
My soul that 1t may find them both—somewhere!
My soul that 1t may find them both—somewhere!