The Sorrow of the Winds
O winds that pass uncomforted
Through all the peaceful meads of spring,
And tell the trees your sorrowing,
That they must mourn till ye are fled !
Think ye the Tyrian distance holds
The crystal of unbroken sleep ?
That those forgetful purples keep
No veiled, contentious greens and golds ?
Half with communicated grief,
Half that they are not free to pass
With you across the flickering grass,
Mourns each inclinèd bough and leaf.
And I, with soul disquieted,
Shall find within the haunted spring
No peace, till your strange sorrowing
Is down the Tyrian distance fled.
|This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1923.
The author died in 1961, so this work is also in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 50 years or less. This work may also be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.