Until they vanished in the vague Beyond.
And many winds about his brow were blowing,
Each breath a thought, of selfish subject purged;
For life is but a spirit, breathing, growing,
In boundless air whence spirit, soul, emerged. -
He deemed that through the night the winds were warring,
Each blast from diverse distance thither faring,
And many thoughts of clashing tenor bearing -
And so his spirit in the winds was merged:
I am the North-wind, - from the gleaming land
I bring the icy breath of crystal truth;
No cheating haze about my throne can stand,
Nor change, nor stupor ye call joy, in sooth!
Down o'er the hushed plains, with seething swoop,
I bleach the reedy rustle of the field;
Read more in News
Special Notices.