How lonesome the Wind must feel Nights


How lonesome the Wind must feel Nights
When people have put out the Lights
And everything that has an Inn
Closes the shutter and goes in

How pompous the Wind must feel Noons
Stepping to incorporeal Tunes
Correcting errors of the sky
And clarifying scenery

How mighty the Wind must feel Morns
Encamping on a thousand dawns
Espousing each and spurning all
Then soaring to his Temple Tall


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How lonesome the Wind must feel Nights