National Lyrics, and Songs for Music/The Wandering Wind

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For other versions of this work, see The Wandering Wind.

II.

THE WANDERING WIND.




The Wind, the wandering Wind
    Of the golden summer eves—
Whence is the thrilling magic
    Of its tones amongst the leaves?
Oh! is it from the waters,
    Or from the long tall grass?
Or is it from the hollow rocks
    Thro' which its breathings pass?

Or is it from the voices
    Of all in one combined,
That it wins the tone of mastery?
    The Wind, the wandering Wind!

No, no! the strange sweet accents
    That with it come and go,
They are not from the osiers,
    Nor the fir-trees whispering low.

They are not of the waters,
    Nor of the caverned hill:
'Tis the human love within us
    That gives them power to thrill.
They touch the links of memory
    Around our spirits twined,
And we start, and weep, and tremble,
    To the Wind, the wandering Wind!