VI
Wind of the outer waste,
Threne of the outer world,
Leash of the stars unlaced,
Morning unfurled,
Somewhere at God’s great need,
I know not how,
With the old strength and speed
He is come now;
Therefore my soul is glad
With the old pride,
Tho’ this small life is sad
Here in my side.
VII
Wind of the driven snow,
Wind of the sea,
On a long trail and slow
Farers are we.
Wind of the Northern gloom,
Wind of the sea,
Shall I one day resume
His love for me?
Wind of the driven snow,
Wind of the sea,
Then shall thy vagrant know
How these things be.
These are the seven wind songs
For Andrew Straton’s rest,
From the hills of the Scarlet Hunter
And the trail of the endless quest.
The wells of the sunrise harken,
They wait for a year and a day:
Only the calm sure thrushes
Fluting the world away!