Classic Poem

O WIND from out of the West,
Thou art singing the song of the blest;
At the break of the day
Thou wert coming her way,
Thou hast seen her, compassed her, heard her to-day,
O wind from out of the West.

O wind from out of the North,
Thou art wings to me sweeping me forth;
Like the seas in the spray
Thou dost bear me away;
Thou art wings that to her do bear me away,
O wind from out of the North.

O wind from out of the East,
Though the gold of the sunshine has ceased,
Here is charm, here is spell,
Here are sweet things to tell,
Find her, and sing to her things that I tell,
O wind from out of the East.

O wind from out of the South,
Thou art very breath of her mouth;
Her spirit thou bringest,
Her sweet note thou singest,
Thy tenderness hers, her spirit thou bringest,
O wind from out of the South.