Poems from the Henn Manuscript - Part 22
PASSION-BLIND agony of sound,
Voice of a lost wind
Mournful over a waste ground
Away from mankind;
Pain-garrulous wail of a wind
Astray in the cold,
Piercing the thin air of a treeless wold
Where light is blind: —
Wind, are there any wildered upon the waste,
Wail no more, mourn never more;
For the hour of death is overpast,
And we are sacred voices evermore.
Voice of a lost wind
Mournful over a waste ground
Away from mankind;
Pain-garrulous wail of a wind
Astray in the cold,
Piercing the thin air of a treeless wold
Where light is blind: —
Wind, are there any wildered upon the waste,
Wail no more, mourn never more;
For the hour of death is overpast,
And we are sacred voices evermore.
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