The Wind

O wanderer out of the West,
Have you a word for me,
Wild-hearted Wind, that has blown my soul
Through the sweet journeying trees?
I would ask but the silence of beauty
Calls me to breathe and to be
A part of the joy unfolding
In the fair land I see.

O ship of the night, that sails the sky,
In sorrow and love I roam,
O wayward Wind, that singest a song,
My heart shall wander home.

• A E George William Russell