THE wind exultant swept Through the new leaves overhead, Till at once my pulses leapt With a life I thought long dead, And I woke, as one who has slept, To my childhood, -- that had not fled. On the wind my spirit flew; Its freedom was mine as well. For a moment the world was new; What came there to break the spell? The wind still freshly blew; My spirit it was that fell. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: ANTON SOSNOWSKI by EDGAR LEE MASTERS IN THE DAYS OF PRISMATIC COLOR by MARIANNE MOORE |