Wind, wind, wind in the old trees, Whispering prophecies all night long . . . What do the grey leaves sing to the wind, What do they say in their whispered song? We were all young once, and green like yourself, We all loved beauty, the maiden of white. But now we are old. O wind have mercy And let us remember our youth this night! The wind is persuasive, it turns through the trees And sighs of a miracle under its breath . . . Beauty the maiden will die with the dreamer, None shall have mercy, but all shall have death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WOODSMOKE AT 70 by HAYDEN CARRUTH FLUTE-PRIEST SONG FOR RAIN; CEREMONIAL AT THE SUN SPRING by AMY LOWELL ITALIAN PICTURES: JULY IN VALLOMBROSA by MINA LOY AT THE MERMAID TAVERN (APRIL 10, 1613) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SONG OF THE MOON by CLAUDE MCKAY |