The Midnight Wind

Mournfully! O, mournfully This midnight wind doth sigh, Like some sweet plaintive melody Of ages long gone by: It speaks a tale of other years— Of hopes that bloomed to die— Of sunny smiles that set in tears, And loves that mouldering lie!

Mournfully! O, mournfully This midnight wind doth moan; It stirs some chord of memory In each dull heavy tone: The voices of the much-loved dead Seem floating thereupon— All, all my fond heart cherished Ere death had made it lone.

Mournfully! O, mournfully This midnight wind doth swell, With its quaint pensive minstrelsy, Hope's passionate farewell To the dreamy joys of early years, Ere yet griefs canker fell On the heart's bloom—ay! well may tears Start at that parting knell!