The Poetry Corner

Sing Me A Song, O, Wind.

By Freeman Edwin Miller

Sing me a song, O, Wind, Of musical cadence sweet, Which in the wood around Shall often and oft repeat; Soft as an angel's song That never can give annoy, Which in the balmy notes Shall tell me its tales of joy. Sing me a song, O, Wind, Of countries beyond the sea, Which in thy wand'rings oft Thou pass with a footstep free; Lands that are ever green 'Neath blaze of the tropic spells, Bright with their blessed suns, Where summer forever dwells. Sing me a song, O, Wind, Of groves with a verdure fair, Waving their boughs of green O'er solitudes grand and rare; Groves with a stillness sweet, With cheering and cooling shades, Where from its cares the race May rest in the leafy glades. Sing me a song, O, Wind, Of birds with a plumage gay, That with their carols sweet Give praise to the God of day; Music of sad refrain, Though fond in its tender chime, Thou in thy travels wide Hast heard in a fairy clime. Sing me a song, O, Wind, Of crystalline brooks at play, Which with the murmurs low Make sweetest of sounds all day; Winding through meadows wide, And blossoming fields between, Fringed with the willows tall On emerald banks of green. Sing me a song, O, Wind, Of flowers that are fond and fair, Filling the fields of earth With beauty and fragrance rare; Wafting an incense pure On every breeze that blows, Drawn from the lily's heart And soul of the royal rose. Sing me a song, O, Wind, Of man in his brightest homes; Tell if he there meet joy, Wherever his longing roams; Tell if there's e'er a place Where, all his ambition spent, He toils throughout all his days And knoweth no discontent. Sing me a song, O, Wind, For I am a-weary now; Life, with its woes and cares, Hangs heavily on my brow; Sing me a song of cheer, My heart that is sad to ease; Sing in thy brightness and joy With heavenly harmonies!