Ode to the Winds

Sound on, sound on, ye whistling winds,
As though ye fain would seek
Some quiet rest ye cannot find,
In this cold world so bleak.
Sound on, sound on; ye bring to mind
The bright and joyful past;
The golden hours of sunny yore,
That were too bright to last.PSAS 108.4

Sound on, sound on, ye whistling winds,
Like thee, ‘mid bitter tears,
In vain I sigh for brighter days,
In other happier years.PSAS 108.5

Sound on, sound on; ye seem to tell
That all things here decay;
The brightest flowers the soonest oft
Will droop and pass away.PSAS 109.1

Sound on, sound on, ye whistling winds;
Thy strange, mysterious voice
Seems like some spirit hovering near,
Bidding my heart rejoice.
Sound on, sound on; for oh! ye’ve power
To soothe each rising sigh,
And waft my spirit far away,
Where pleasures never die.PSAS 109.2