The Witch Maid, and Other Verses/March Winds

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The Witch Maid, and Other Verses by Dorothea Mackellar March Winds

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MARCH WINDS Winds go streaming, shouting loud,     At their play around the sky, And my soul is like a cloud     Blown about with them on high. Like a hawk unhooded, she     From my body broke away, Longing for the company     Of the winds at holiday. So she scours the skiey plain,     Wheeling, dipping in the blue— Hawk-soul, cloud-soul, turn again!     What's the lure to use for you?

Cairo.