The wind blows soft, and cool, and sweet,
As it blew in my infancy;
And as leaves burst out when their juice grows sweet,
So my thoughts rise up in me.
And again, with my bosom beating high,
I enter my boyhood land,
While the dreams that fade but can never die,
Come and take me by the hand;
And they lead me away from my daily thought,
Then leave me as whispers die,
Lying all alone in some fairy spot,
Looking up to the summer sky.
And the sunlight, as soft as a maiden's breath,
Comes cool through the leaves above,
And lights on my brow with a steadfast faith,
And an all-unchanging love.
Ah! thus it fell in the long ago,
When my heart beat firm and strong,
And my spirit leapt up with its brightest glow,
At the first sweet breath of song.
Then there fell a light on field and hill;
But that light has lost its glow,
Yet my heart at times feels its sweetness still,
As I feel the sunlight now;
And from out that sweetness comes and goes,
Like the gush of summer springs,
The music that trembles within, and flows
From the sunshine of vanish'd things.
And through all my life, as I work away,
That music follows me—
Speaking out, in the pauses of the day,
In many a melody.
Thus it comes that my heart still keeps its prime,
And, when sunlight is sweet and strong,
Dreams itself away to that boyhood time,
And its first wild gush of song.