To you, troop so fleet,That with winged wandering feet, Through the wide world pass,And with soft murmuringToss the green shades of spring In woods and grass,Lily and violetI give, and blossoms wet, Roses and dew;This branch of blushing roses.Whose fresh bud uncloses. Wind-flowers too.Ah, winnow with sweet breath,Winnow the holt and heath, Round this retreat;Where all the golden mornWe fan the gold o' the corn, In the sun's heat.
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Hymn to the Winds
written byAndrew Lang
© Andrew Lang
