[from Collected Works, T.E.Brown]


WEARY wind of the West
Over the billowy sea —
Come to my heart, and rest !
Ah, rest with me!
Come from the distance dim
Bearing the sun's last sigh ;
I hear thee sobbing for him
Through all the sky."

So the wind came,
Purpling the middle sea,
Crisping the ripples of flame —
Came unto me;
Came with a rush to the shore,
Came with a bound to the hill,
Fell, and died at my feet—
Then all was still.


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