Wind-Gardens

Midway between earth and sky,
There the wild Wind-Gardens lie, —
Tossing gardens, secret bowers,
Full of song, and full of flowers, —
Wafting down to us below
Such a fragrance as we know
Never yet had lily or rose
That in earthly garden grows,

O those Gardens, dear and far,
Where the wild Wind- Fairies are,
Singing clearly, singing purely,
Strains of far-off Elf- Land, surely! —
Though we see them not, we hearken
To them when the Spring skies darken, —
We divine their wayward playing,
Through those far, strange Gardens straying;

Plucking there the wild Wind-posies,
Lilies, violets, and roses.
Whose sweet breath like angels' pity
Finds us, even in the City,
Where we toiling seek as treasures
Dull Earth's disenchanting pleasures.
O those gales with Wind-flowers laden, —
Flowers that no mortal maiden

In her breast shall ever wear!
Flowers to wreathe Titania's hair,
And to strew her happy way,
When she marries some wind-fay!
O Wind-Gardens, where such songs are,
And of flowers such happy throngs are,
Though your paths I may not see,
Well I know how blest they be!