Ii

I have heard the wind on a night of spring, When the leaves unclasped their girdles of gold, And the bird on the bough sang slumbering, In the lilac’s fragrant fold:

I have heard the wind on a night of spring, Shaking the musk from its dewy wing, Sigh in my garden old: And it seemed that it said, as it sighed above, “I am the voice of the Earth’s great love.”