_Do You Fear the Wind?_
Do you fear the force of the wind,
The slash of the rain?
Go face them and fight them,
Be savage again.
Go hungry and cold like the wolf,
Go wade like the crane:
The palms of your hands will thicken,
The skin of your cheeks will tan,
You’ll grow ragged and weary and swarthy,
But you’ll walk like a man!
_Hamlin Garland_
_Hark to the Shouting Wind_
Hark to the shouting Wind!
Hark to the flying Rain!
And I care not though I never see
A bright blue sky again.
There are thoughts in my breast to-day
That are not for human speech;
But I hear them in the driving storm,
And the roar upon the beach.
And oh, to be with that ship
That I watched through the blinding brine!
O Wind! for thy sweepy land and sea!
O Sea! for a voice like thine!
Shout on, thou pitiless Wind,
To the frightened and flying Rain!
I care not though I never see
A calm blue sky again.
_Henry Timrod_
_Who Has Seen the Wind?_
Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you:
But when the leaves hang trembling,
The wind is passing thro’.
Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I:
But when the trees bow down their heads,
The wind is passing by.
_Christina Rossetti_
_Wind_
Wind, wind--heather gipsy
Whistling in my tree!
All the heart of me is tipsy
On the sound of thee.
Sweet with scent of clover,
Salt with breath of sea,
Wind, wind--wayman lover,
Whistling in my tree!
_John Galsworthy_
_The Sea-Wind_
Winnow me through with thy keen clear breath,
Wind with the tang of the sea!
Speed through the closing gates of day,
Find me, and fold me, and have thy way,
And take thy will of me!
Use my soul as you use the sky,--
Gray sky of this sullen day!
Clear its doubt as you speed its wrack
Of storm-clouds burning its splendor back,
Giving it gold for gray!
Bring me word of the moving ships,
Halyards and straining spars;
Come to me clear from the sea’s wide breast
While the last lights die in the yellow west
Under the first white stars!
Batter the closed doors of my heart
And set my spirit free!
For I stifle here in this crowded place
Sick for the tenantless fields of space,
Wind with the tang of the sea!
_Arthur Ketchum_
_I Meant to Do My Work Today_
I meant to do my work to-day--
But a brown bird sang in the apple-tree
And a butterfly flitted across the field,
And all the leaves were calling me.
And the wind went sighing over the land,
Tossing the grasses to and fro,
And a rainbow held out its shining hand--
So what could I do but laugh and go?
_Richard Le Gallienne_
_That Wind Is Best_
Whichever way the wind doth blow
Some heart is glad to have it so;
Then blow it east or blow it west,
The wind that blows, that wind is best.
Then, whatsoever wind doth blow,
My heart is glad to have it so;
And blow it east or blow it west,
The wind that blows, that wind is best.
_Caroline Atherton Mason_
_Happy Wind_
Oh, happy wind, how sweet
Thy life must be!
The great, proud fields of gold
Run after thee:
And here are flowers, with heads
To nod and shake;
And dreaming butterflies
To tease and wake.
Oh, happy wind, I say,
To be alive this day.
_William H. Davies_
_Wind-Litany_
In this world I shall not find
Any Comforter like Wind,
Any friend to so endure,
Any love so strong, so sure.
I was born when Wind with Star
Linked its magic, and from far
Whispered out my destiny--
And the Winds have brothered me.
Strong young hill-winds roistering
Up the steep with me and Spring,
Wild wet thrilling ocean-gales
Flinging out my swelling sails,
Or the little dawning-airs
Rising pure as baby-prayers--
These have loved me since my birth
On the wind-swept swinging earth.
Rose-perfumed night-air that slips
Like a kiss across my lips,
Smoke-tanged wood-breath--they can sweep
All old childhood from its sleep
Underneath thick-fallen days
Heaped and dun across my ways;
For until the end shall be,
Scent o’ wind is Memory.
I remember when befell
Heartbreak fierce, intolerable,
And no voice or touch but bound
Deeper torment on the wound:
Yet a little wind could rise
Stroking cheek and tear-wet eyes,
Breathing, “Hush! All pain shall pass!
Still are winds, and skies, and grass!”
God, when all of earth shall lie
Stripped and new beneath Thine eye,
And Thy gold stars fall unstrung,
And Thy curtain-sky down-flung,
And Thy seas are lifted up
Whole from out their empty cup,
Grant me still, in Heaven’s place
Sweet swift winds across my face!
_Margaret Widdemer_
_A Morning_
The glad, mad wind went singing by,
The white clouds drove athwart the blue,
Bold beauty of the morning sky
And all the world was sun and dew,
And sweet cold air with sudden glints of gold
Like spilled stars glowing in the cedars’ hold.
I laughed for very joy of life,
Oh, thrilling veins, oh, happy heart,
Of this glad world with beauty rife,
Exult that we too are a part;
Rejoice! Rejoice! that miracle of birth
Gave us this golden heritage of earth.
Oh, bold, blue sky, oh, keen, glad wind,
I wonder me if this may be,
That some day, leaving life behind,
Our eyes shall view new land, new sea
So exquisite that, lo! with thrilling breath,
We shall laugh loud for very joy of death.
_Theodosia Garrison_
_The Wind’s Life_
I love the silver-shaken,
The windy tops of trees
That heave and lift in sequence,
Like running surf of seas,
With swathes of changing purples
And vistas golden-deep
Where, for an unstirred moment,
The sunlight lies asleep.
_Harry Kemp_
_The Mystic_
I have ridden the wind,
I have ridden the sea,
I have ridden the moon and stars.
I have set my feet in the stirrup seat
Of a comet coursing Mars.
And everywhere
Thro’ the earth and air
My thought speeds, lightning-shod,
It comes to a place where checking pace
It cries, “Beyond lies God!”
* * * * *
I have ridden the wind,
I have ridden the night,
I have ridden the ghosts that flee
From the vaults of death like a chilling breath
Over eternity.
And everywhere
Is the world laid bare--
Ether and star and clod--
Until I wind to its brink and find
But the cry, “Beyond lies God!”
* * * * *
I have ridden the wind,
I have ridden the stars,
I have ridden the force that flies
With far intent thro’ the firmament
And each to each allies.
And everywhere
That a thought may dare
To gallop, mine has trod--
Only to stand at last on the strand
Where just beyond lies God.
_Cale Young Rice_
_The Hill-Born_
_Again among the hills!
The shaggy hills!
The clear arousing air comes like a call
Of bugle notes across the pines, and thrills
My heart as if a hero had just spoken._