Songs and Sonnets (Coleman)/Prairie Winds
PRAIRIE WINDS.
I love all things that God has made
That show His ordered care and might,
But most, I think, I love the wind
That blows at night.
It holds so much of mystery,
Like that in mine own restless heart—
Brother to me and well-beloved,
Wind, thou art!
Across these unresisting plains
It sweeps at times with force sublime,
And always like the wraith it seems
Of happier clime.
For in the South its home has been,
A sun-kissed, warm and fertile land,
Where Nature pours her treasure from
Unstinting hand.
Through fields of rustling corn it came
And acres broad of bearded wheat,
Past hillsides clad with evergreen
And orchards sweet.
It rifled scent from clover fields
Where harvesters have been at work,
And ruffled little running brooks
Where mosses lurk.
It bears the note of piping frogs,
The stir of tender, untried wings—
Of lowing kine, and homely sounds
Of barnyard things.
O barren Land! what dost thou dream
Beneath these surging winds that bear
The echoes of a life which thou
Canst never share?
Dost thou not long to break thy calm—
To know that living, sweet unrest?
And feel the tread of busy feet
Upon thy breast?
To hear thy children's laughter voiced
In myriad tongues, and know that when
Their day is done within thy breast
They'll sleep again?
O silent Land! the winds that blow
Within men's hearts and fan the fire
Of hidden hopes and show the soul
Its own desire,
Have come to me from distant shores
And borne in broken whisperings
A tale that thrilled me like a tide
From rising springs.
The full-pressed wine of life my lips
Have never tasted, yet is known,
My heart, though held in bondage, leaps
To claim its own.
I know my lawful heritage.
Although I stand on alien ground;
I know what kingship is, although
I go uncrowned.
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At night when inner tempests blow,
And sleep forsakes my weary eye,
I love to hear the wind without
Go storming by.
It speaks my own wild native tongue
And gives me courage to withstand,
As if a comrade came to me
And took my hand.
I love all things that God has made
In earth or sea or heavens bright,
But most I love the prairie winds
That blow at night.