The wind from the West

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Blow high, blow low,
  O wind from the West;
You come from the country
  I love the best.

O say have the lilies
  Yet lifted their heads
Above the lake-water
  That ripples and spreads?

Do the little sedges
  Still shake with delight,
And whisper together
  All through the night?

Have the mountains the purple
  I used to love,
And peace about them,
  Around and above?

© Edward Young