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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391049" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The wind</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">(THE TALE)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Cometh the Wind from the garden, fragrant and full of sweet singing--<br>Under my tree where I sit cometh the Wind to confession.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Out in the garden abides the Queen of the beautiful Roses--<br>Her do I love and to-night wooed her with passionate singing;<br>Told I my love in those songs, and answer she gave in her blushes--<br>She shall be bride of the Wind, and she is the Queen of the Roses!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Wind, there is spice in thy breath; thy rapture hath fragrance Sabaean!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Straight from my wooing I come--my lips are bedewed with her kisses--<br>My lips and my song and my heart are drunk with the rapture of loving!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> (THE SONG)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Wind he loveth the red, red Rose,<br> And he wooeth his love to wed:<br> Sweet is his song<br> The Summer long<br> As he kisseth her lips so red;<br>And he recketh naught of the ruin wrought<br> When the Summer of love is sped!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> (AGAIN THE TALE)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Cometh the Wind from the garden, bitter with sorrow of winter.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Wind, is thy love-song forgot? Wherefore thy dread lamentations?"</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sigheth and moaneth the Wind: "Out of the desolate garden<br>Come I from vigils with ghosts over the grave of the Summer!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Thy breath that was fragrant anon with rapture of music and loving,<br>It grieveth all things with its sting and the frost of its wailing<br>displeasure."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Wind maketh ever more moan and ever it giveth this answer:<br>"My heart it is numb with the cold of the love that was born of the<br>Summer--<br>I come from the garden all white with the wrath and the sorrow of Winter;<br>I have kissed the low, desolate tomb where my bride in her loveliness<br>lieth<br>And the voice of the ghost in my heart is the voice that forever<br>outcrieth!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0">(AGAIN THE SONG)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Wind he waileth the red, red Rose<br> When the Summer of love is sped--<br> He waileth above<br> His lifeless love<br> With her shroud of snow o'erspread--<br>Crieth such things as a true heart brings<br> To the grave of its precious dead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Eugene+Field">Eugene Field</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=391049" data-title="The wind de Eugene Field" data-description="(THE TALE) Cometh the Wind from the garden, fragrant and full of sweet singing-- Under my tree where I sit cometh the Wind to confession. "Out in the garden abides the Queen of the beautiful Roses-- Her do I love and to-night wooed her with..."></div> </div> </div>
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