I
Wind of the Northern land,
Wind of the sea,
No more his dearest hand
Comes back to me.
Wind of the Northern gloom,
Wind of the sea,
Wandering waifs of doom
Feckless are we.
Wind of the Northern land,
Wind of the sea,
I cannot understand
How these things be.
II
Wind of the low red morn
At the world’s end,
Over the standing corn
Whisper and bend.
Then through the low red morn
At the world’s end,
Far out from sorrow’s bourne,
Down glory’s trend,
Tell the last years forlorn
At the world’s end,
Of my one peerless born
Comrade and friend.
III
Wind of the April stars,
Wind of the dawn,
Whether God nears or fars,
He lived and shone.