The Wind Of Summer

written by


« Reload image

From the hills and far away
  All the long, warm summer day
  Comes the wind and seems to say:

  "Come, oh, come! and let us go
  Where the meadows bend and blow,
  Waving with the white-tops' snow.

  "'Neath the hyssop-colored sky
  'Mid the meadows we will lie
  Watching the white clouds roll by;

  "While your hair my hands shall press
  With a cooling tenderness
  Till your grief grows less and less.

  "Come, oh, come! and let us roam
  Where the rock-cut waters comb
  Flowing crystal into foam.

  "Under trees whose trunks are brown,
  On the banks that violets crown,
  We will watch the fish flash down;

  "While your ear my voice shall soothe
  With a whisper soft and smooth
  Till your care shall wax uncouth.

  "Come! where forests, line on line,
  Armies of the oak and pine,
  Scale the hills and shout and shine.

  "We will wander, hand in hand,
  Ways where tall the toadstools stand,
  Mile-stones white of Fairyland.

  "While your eyes my lips shall kiss,
  Dewy as a wild rose is,
  Till they gaze on naught but bliss.

  "On the meadows you will hear,
  Leaning low your spirit ear,
  Cautious footsteps drawing near.

  "You will deem it but a bee,
  Murmuring soft and sleepily,
  Till your inner sight shall see

  "'Tis a presence passing slow,
  All its shining hair ablow,
  Through the white-tops' tossing snow.

  "By the waters, if you will,
  And your inmost soul be still,
  Melody your ears shall fill.

  "You will deem it but the stream
  Rippling onward in a dream,
  Till upon your gaze shall gleam

  "Arm of spray and throat of foam--
  'Tis a spirit there aroam
  Where the radiant waters comb.

  "In the forest, if you heed,
  You shall hear a magic reed
  Sow sweet notes like silver seed.

  "You will deem your ears have heard
  Stir of tree or song of bird,
  Till your startled eyes are blurred

  "By a vision, instant seen,
  Naked gold and beryl green,
  Glimmering bright the boughs between.

  "Follow me! and you shall see
  Wonder-worlds of mystery
  That are only known to me!"

  Thus outside my city door
  Speaks the Wind its wildwood lore,
  Speaks and lo! I go once more.

© Madison Julius Cawein