“Blow”

A poem about the winds.

Blow! Blow! strange wind! and go!

Let barren plain and desert know,

What eerie, wind-swept scream you sew,

And let all things before you know,

What power rests within your blow!

Blow! Blow! and scream, and cry!

Though man’s great towers touch the sky,

Your scream can build and mount and sigh,

From smallest breeze to largest cry,

And tear down whatsoever you might try.

Blow! Blow! and whistle nigh!

And whip and whimper far and wide,

For, full of pride, your song does ride,

A screaming, whispered, moaning stride,

And to the ends of all does glide.