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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538087" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Winds</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ye winds, ye unseen currents of the air,<br>Softly ye played a few brief hours ago;<br>Ye bore the murmuring bee; ye tossed the hair<br>O'er maiden cheeks, that took a fresher glow;<br>Ye rolled the round white cloud through depths of blue;<br>Ye shook from shaded flowers the lingering dew;<br>Before you the catalpa's blossoms flew,<br>Light blossoms, dropping on the grass like snow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>II.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How are ye changed! Ye take the cataract's sound;<br>Ye take the whirlpool's fury and its might;<br>The mountain shudders as ye sweep the ground;<br>The valley woods lie prone beneath your flight.<br>The clouds before you shoot like eagles past;<br>The homes of men are rocking in your blast;<br>Ye lift the roofs like autumn leaves, and cast,<br>Skyward, the whirling fragments out of sight.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>III.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The weary fowls of heaven make wing in vain,<br>To escape your wrath; ye seize and dash them dead.<br>Against the earth ye drive the roaring rain;<br>The harvest-field becomes a river's bed;<br>And torrents tumble from the hills around,<br>Plains turn to lakes, and villages are drowned,<br>And wailing voices, midst the tempest's sound,<br>Rise, as the rushing waters swell and spread.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>IV.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ye dart upon the deep, and straight is heard<br>A wilder roar, and men grow pale, and pray;<br>Ye fling its floods around you, as a bird<br>Flings o'er his shivering plumes the fountain's spray.<br>See! to the breaking mast the sailor clings;<br>Ye scoop the ocean to its briny springs,<br>And take the mountain billow on your wings,<br>And pile the wreck of navies round the bay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>V.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Why rage ye thus?--no strife for liberty<br>Has made you mad; no tyrant, strong through fear,<br>Has chained your pinions till ye wrenched them free,<br>And rushed into the unmeasured atmosphere;<br>For ye were born in freedom where ye blow;<br>Free o'er the mighty deep to come and go;<br>Earth's solemn woods were yours, her wastes of snow,<br>Her isles where summer blossoms all the year.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>VI.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O ye wild winds! a mightier Power than yours<br>In chains upon the shore of Europe lies;<br>The sceptred throng, whose fetters he endures,<br>Watch his mute throes with terror in their eyes:<br>And armed warriors all around him stand,<br>And, as he struggles, tighten every band,<br>And lift the heavy spear, with threatening hand,<br>To pierce the victim, should he strive to rise.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>VII.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet oh, when that wronged Spirit of our race<br>Shall break, as soon he must, his long-worn chains,<br>And leap in freedom from his prison-place,<br>Lord of his ancient hills and fruitful plains,<br>Let him not rise, like these mad winds of air,<br>To waste the loveliness that time could spare,<br>To fill the earth with wo, and blot her fair<br>Unconscious breast with blood from human veins.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>VIII.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But may he like the spring-time come abroad,<br>Who crumbles winter's gyves with gentle might,<br>When in the genial breeze, the breath of God,<br>Come spouting up the unsealed springs to light;<br>Flowers start from their dark prisons at his feet,<br>The woods, long dumb, awake to hymnings sweet,<br>And morn and eve, whose glimmerings almost meet,<br>Crowd back to narrow bounds the ancient night.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Cullen+Bryant">William Cullen Bryant</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=538087" data-title="The Winds de William Cullen Bryant" data-description="I.

Ye winds, ye unseen currents of the air,
Softly ye played a few brief hours ago;
Ye bore the murmuring bee; ye tossed the hair
O'er maiden cheeks, that took a fresher glow;
Ye rolled the round white cloud through depths of blue;
Ye shook from ..."></div>
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