“SING ME A SONG, O, WIND.”

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!