O SWEET South Wind! Long hast thou linger'd midst those islands fair, Which lie, enchanted, on the Indian deep, Like sea-maids all asleep, Charm'd by the cloudless sun and azure air! O sweetest southern wind! Pause here awhile, and gently now unbind Thy dark rose-crowned hair! Wilt thou not unloose now, In this, the bluest of all hours, Thy passion-colour'd flowers? Rest; and let fall the fragrance from thy brow On Beauty's parted lips and closed eyes, And on her cheeks, which crimson-liked the skies; And slumber on her bosom, white as snow, Whilst starry midnight flies! We, whom the northern blast Blows on, from night till morn, from morn to eve, Hearing thee, sometimes grieve That our poor summer's day not long may last: And yet, perhaps, 'twere well We should not ever dwell With thee, sweet spirit of the sunny south; But touch thy odorous mouth Once, and be gone unto our blasts again, And their bleak welcome, and our wintry snow; And arm us (by enduring) for that pain Which the bad world sends forth, and all its wo! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JAMES GARBER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS HYMN OF PAN by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY YOUTH AND AGE by GEORGE ARNOLD GREEN AISLES by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE FEAST OF THE GODS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET MUSIC MYSTERY by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |