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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=384615" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Dirge Of The Winds</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The four winds of earth, the North, South, East, and West,<br>Shrieked and groaned, sobbed and wailed, like the soul of unrest.<br>I stood in the dusk of the twilight alone,<br>And heard them go by with a terrible moan.<br>'What is it, O winds! that is grieving you so?<br>Come tell me your sorrow, and tell me your woe!'<br>'What is it?' I questioned. They shuddered, and said:<br>'We mourn for the dead! Oh! we mourn for the dead-</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>'For the dishonored dead that the wine-cup has slain;<br>For the wrecks that are lying on hill and on plain;<br>For the beautiful faces, so young and so fair,<br>That are lying down under the green grasses there;<br>For the masterful minds and beautiful souls<br>That were shattered, and drowned, and debased in the bowls;<br>For the graves that are scattered broadcast o'er the land,<br>The graves that were dug by King Alcohol's hand.<br>For the scenes that we saw, as we came on our way,<br>The sights and the sounds that degraded the day.<br>East and West, North and South, the tale is the same-<br>A tale of debasement, and sorrow, and shame.<br>And this is our sorrow, and this is our woe:<br>It is this, it is this, that is grieving us so.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Three winds hushed their voices. The East wind alone<br>Told her tale in a moaning and sorrowful tone:<br>'I came yesterday, from the great Eastern land,<br>Where the mountains are high and the cities are grand;<br>But the devil walks there, night and day, in the streets,<br>And he offers red wine to each soul that he greets.<br>They drink, and the record of crimes and of sins,<br>And the record of shame and of sorrow begins.<br>I sped from the sin-burdened East to the West,<br>But I find not of balm for my agonized breast.<br>Wine blackens the West as it blackens the East.'<br>And the voice of the wind sobbed and wailed as it ceased.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>'I come from the West!' another voice cried,<br>'Where the rivers are broad, and the prairies are wide.<br>There is vigor and strength in that beautiful land,<br>But the devil walks there with a bowl in his hand,<br>And the strongest grow weak, and the mightiest fall,<br>In the damnable reign of this King Alcohol.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>He ceased, and another came mournfully forth,<br>And spake: 'I came from the land of the North,<br>Where the streamlets are ice and the hillocks are snow,<br>And little of passions in mortal veins flow.<br>But the devil walks there in that land, day and night,<br>And he covers his face with a mask that is white;<br>And he smiles as he pours out the wine for his prey,<br>Nor counts up the legions he kills every day.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>The voice of the South wind spoke now in a sigh:<br>'And I, too, can tell of the thousands that die<br>By the hand of this king, in my soft, southern clime,<br>Where the sweet waters flow in a musical chime.<br>The devil walks there by King Alcohol's side,<br>And he pours out the wine till it flows in a tide;<br>It rushes along with a gurgling sound,<br>And thousands are caught in the current and drowned.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Again the four winds cried aloud in their woe:<br>'It is this, it is this, that is grieving us so.<br>We see the mad legions go down to the grave,<br>Unable to warn them, unable to save,<br>We shriek and we groan, we shudder in pain,<br>For the souls that are lost, for the youths that are slain;<br>And the river flows onward, the river wine-red,<br>And we mourn for the dead, oh! we mourn for the dead.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ella+Wheeler+Wilcox">Ella Wheeler Wilcox</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=384615" data-title="The Dirge Of The Winds de Ella Wheeler Wilcox" data-description="The four winds of earth, the North, South, East, and West,
Shrieked and groaned, sobbed and wailed, like the soul of unrest.
I stood in the dusk of the twilight alone,
And heard them go by with a terrible moan.
'What is it, O winds! that is grievi..."></div>
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