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...ON THIS DAY I COMPLETE MY THIRTY-SIXTH YEAR by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE HONEYSUCKLE by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 47. BROKEN MUSIC by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI TO MYRTILLA OF NEW YORK by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE NEGLECTED HEART by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |