 | Twilight Songs |  |
29
THE LOST LAND.
What wind is it that stirs,
Lighter than gossamers,
In the pines, in the firs?
Lighter than gossamers,
In the pines, in the firs?
The Wind of Youth it blows
From Yesterday's Long Agos,
Under the rose, the rose.
From Yesterday's Long Agos,
Under the rose, the rose.
What song is it he sings?
What news is it he brings
Of old, of beloved things?
What news is it he brings
Of old, of beloved things?
The Wind of Youth is young,
He goes with a careless song,
No years have done him wrong.
He goes with a careless song,
No years have done him wrong.
The Wind of Youth is sad.
Nay, he is merry and glad,
With the heart of a lad, a lad.
Nay, he is merry and glad,
With the heart of a lad, a lad.
By the Wind of Youth and its word,
Like the song of a fairy bird,
The secret springs are stirred.
Like the song of a fairy bird,
The secret springs are stirred.
30
O Wind of Youth in the tree,
Go by, nor trouble me
With news of the lost country.
Go by, nor trouble me
With news of the lost country.
That all so heavenly shows
Under the rose, the rose,
Whence none returns, none goes.
Under the rose, the rose,
Whence none returns, none goes.
| Twilight Songs | |