How it snorts, and how it blows!
Over turf and stone are pouring
Stream and streamlet, wildly roaring;
Is it rustling? is it singing?
Love’s sweet plaint with gentle winging!
Voices of those days, the dearest,
When our light of hope was clearest!
And the echo, like the sounds
Of ancient story, back rebounds.
Oohoo! Shoohoo! what a riot!