WAIF in the wind, O where So swiftly dost thou speed? "I nothing know nor heed Since thunder toppled sheer The oak-tree whence I hung. South wind or northern blast, Soft-voiced or shrill of tongue, Do drive me onward fast Who feel nor grief nor fear: By wood or valley low, By field or mountain height, I pass from mortal sight Where rose and laurel go." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LORDS OF THE MAIN by JOSEPH STANSBURY BRUCE: JAMES OF DOUGLAS by JOHN BARBOUR MY LITTLE TASK by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON PRODIGAL by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN VENGEANCE IS MINE by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON OLNEY HYMNS: 15. PRAISE FOR THE FOUNTAIN OPENED by WILLIAM COWPER |