THERE sits a piper on the hill Who pipes the livelong day, And when he pipes both loud and shrill, The frightened people say: 'The wind, the wind is blowing up, 'Tis rising to a gale.' The women hurry to the shore To watch some distant sail. @3The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind, Is blowing to a gale.@1 But when he pipes all sweet and low, The piper on the hill, I hear the merry women go With laughter, loud and shrill: 'The wind, the wind is coming south, 'Twill blow a gentle day.' They gather on the meadow-land, To toss the yellow hay. @3The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind, Is blowing south to-day.@1 And in the morn, when winter comes, To keep the piper warm, The little Angels shake their wings To make a feather storm: 'The snow, the snow has come at last!' The happy children call, And 'ring around' they dance in glee, And watch the snowflakes fall. @3The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind, Has spread a snowy pall.@1 But when at night the piper plays, I have not any fear, Because God's windows open wide The pretty tune to hear; And when each crowding spirit looks, From its star window-pane, A watching mother may behold Her little child again. @3The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind, May blow her home again.@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPITAPH FOR A SOLDIER by DAVID IGNATOW SURFACES AND MASKS; 7 by CLARENCE MAJOR MY LIGHT WITH YOURS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: COLUMBUS CHENEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE EXPOSED NEST by ROBERT FROST ASIAN BIRDS by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES |