Page:Shingle-short-Baughan-1908.djvu/184

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THE PADDOCK

Song of the Wind.

Cool, in silver vapour vested,
On a mountain lawn
Softly yester-eve I nested;
Quietly I lay, and rested;
Quietly till Dawn,
When, sudden! a cry from the thirsty North—
And straight and eager I flung me forth!
(Blow! whistle and blow!)
Forth! forth with my streaming train!
Out of the valley we volley and flow,
Gallop and gallop across the plain....
Pause a moment....then, forth again,
Forth! we gallop and go.
Toss your tresses from side to side,
For the road is open, the way is wide,
And where is the halter or holding rein?
Forward, frolic and flow!
Here’s a rollicking beam to race....
Yonder’s a fugitive cloud to chase....
Swifter, swifter, the splendid pace!
Champing, challenging, go!
Bluster and brush, flutter and flush,
Tussle and rustle, wrestle and rush—
Hush!
Swoop....Stoop....
Low, fly low!


Here be leaves to ruffle about,
Dreamy waters to ripple and roll,

Grass to set running, as up the knoll

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