The Wind

To-day, a soft, mild, whispering breeze am I,
As gently o'er the greening fields I rove,

Breathe kisses on the faces of the buds,

My sweet, warm kiss, the pledge of my true love.
"Bloom, bloom! fair daughters of the balmy spring!"
Soft whispering in their ears 'bloom! bloom!' I say

Then, as their coverings they shyly ope,
In bliss upon their breasts I faint away.

To-morrow though I am the shrill-voiced wind,

The bush in fear shall tremble in my path,
Beholding in my hands the whetted knife,

It knows I shall -deprive it of its green.
"Ye foolish, trusty maidens fade away!"

I hiss unto the flow'rs and withered, sere
They fade away upon the autumn's breast,

While cold and scornful I but laugh and jeer.

To-day a meek breeze I, as o'er smooth streams

I peacefully and calm float through the air
Observed but by the little, weary bee,

Who, flying homewards from the meads, doth bear
Her burden at her side, — the gathered sweets

For honey-making, — culled from flowers bright.
The tiny creature on. my palm I bear

And thus assist her in her weary flight.

To-morrow, once again, the tempest mad!

O'er angry seas on my wild steed I'll ride,
Cause in my wrath their dark-green locks to shake,

The lord like, who by stubborn child's defied.
I'll sweep the sea, and if a ship I meet,

Her wings, the flutt'ring sails I'll wrest.
And with her mast write on the waves her fate:

"No more wilt thou in any harbor rest!"