University of Virginia Library

THE SWEET SOUTH WIND.

Hark, 'tis the sweet South Wind!
How soft its dewy fingers touch the keys,
Which thrill such melting music through the mind,
Even the green leaves of the forest trees.
There is a witchery
In the soft music, like the voice of love:
Now gushing o'er the soul deliciously,
Then sighing tenderly along the grove.
It seemeth to mine ear
The rustling of some holy creature's wing,
Sent from some passionless and sinless sphere,
Unction of peace unto the soul to bring.
My temples feel its power.
Cooling and soothing every throbbing vein,
My spirit lifts its weary wings once more,
And bursts the strong clasp of care's sordid chain:

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And floats all calm and free,
Blent with the music of the bending wood;
Fill'd with the light of immortality,
Even the presence of the living God.
Nature is full of Him,
And every willing spirit feels his power;
Even as the south wind fills the forest dim,
And bends with its rich weight each lowly flower.
Oh! may death come to me,
On the soft breath of such a night as this;
To lift the thin veil of mortality,
And let me bathe, at once, in perfect bliss.