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|Welcome Guest , Please Login or Join Us||Feb 21, 2019 : 05:21:21 PM|
Abstract:I come from crests of Cockscomb Hills
Pacing over ridges,
I rove about the blooming gills,
And race along the fringes.
I drift the mist that wreathes the crowns,
And chill a stream at shallows,
I play among the marshy grounds,
And shake hands with the mallows.
I creep through trees that fork about,
And stir the leaves to a rustle,
I make the flowers sway about,
And float the scent in a bustle.
I sleep away the sunny noon,
And wake up with a wriggle,
I loiter on to watch the moon,
And count the stars that twinkle.
I hush the nestlings to keep calm,
And stroke the birds that twitter.
I sweep along a lonely farm,
Where weevils softly mutter.
I hiss and hiss around the fields
Strolling along hedges,
I tickle, tickle all the weeds,
And pass over many ledges.
I gad about a rushy pool,
Amidst a brimming thicket,
I dip into a gaping coomb,
Echoing chirps of crickets.
I hug the meadows as I blow,
And kiss the dew that glitters,
I find my way to your window,
To make the curtains flutter.
I’m a gentle wind, to tell the truth,
I keep men hale and hearty.
I go on blowing, warm or cool,
To make all look very pretty.