Song (The winds as at their hour of birth)
The winds, as at their hour of birth,
Leaning upon the ridgèd sea,
Breathed low around the rolling earth
With mellow preludes, 'We are free.'
The streams through many a lilied row
Down-carolling to the crisped sea,
Low-tinkled with a bell-like flow
Atween the blossoms, 'We are free.'
|This work published before January 1, 1923 is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.|