COME, WAILING WINDS; COME, BIRDS OF NIGHT.
Come, wailing winds; come, birds of night;
Come, Time, and bring the ivy vine
To wind in constant clasp and bright
This desolated pride of mine;—
Come with your mildew and your mould
For these rich draperies, these fair halls;
Come with your mosses, and enfold
These humbled towers, these broken walls!
Come, Time, and bring the ivy vine
To wind in constant clasp and bright
This desolated pride of mine;—
Come with your mildew and your mould
For these rich draperies, these fair halls;
Come with your mosses, and enfold
These humbled towers, these broken walls!
