The Wind Of Summer

From the hills and far away     All the long, warm summer day     Comes the wind and seems to say:     "Come, oh, come! and let us go     Where the meadows bend and blow,     Waving with the white-tops' snow.     "'Neath the hyssop-colored sky     'Mid the meadows we will lie     Watching the white clouds roll by;     "While your hair my hands shall press     With a cooling tenderness     Till your grief grows less and less.     "Come, oh, come! and let us roam     Where the rock-cut waters comb     Flowing crystal into foam.     "' Under trees whose trunks are brown,     On the banks that violets crown,     We will watch the fish flash down;     "While your ear my voice shall soothe     With a whisper soft and smooth     Till your care shall wax uncouth.     "Come! where forests, line on line,     Armies of the oak and pine,     Scale the hills and shout and shine.     "We will wander, hand in hand,     Ways where tall the toadstools stand,     Mile-stones white of Fairyland.     "While your eyes my lips shall kiss,     Dewy as a wild rose is,     Till they gaze on naught but bliss.     "On the meadows you will hear,     Leaning low your spirit ear,     Cautious footsteps drawing near.     "You will deem it but a bee,     Murmuring soft and sleepily,     Till your inner sight shall see.     "'Tis a presence passing slow,     All its shining hair ablow,     Through the white-tops' tossing snow.     "By the waters, if you will,     And your inmost soul be still,     Melody your ears shall fill.     "You will deem it but the stream     Rippling onward in a dream,     Till upon your gaze shall gleam.     "Arm of spray and throat of foam     'Tis a spirit there aroam     Where the radiant waters comb.     "In the forest, if you heed,     You shall hear a magic reed     Sow sweet notes like silver seed.     "You will deem your ears have heard     Stir of tree or song of bird,     Till your startled eyes are blurred.     "By a vision, instant seen,     Naked gold and beryl green,     Glimmering bright the boughs between.     "Follow me! and you shall see     Wonder-worlds of mystery     That are only known to me!"     Thus outside my city door     Speaks the Wind its wildwood lore,     Speaks and lo! I go once more.