LESSON 12 A SONG OF WIND

A SONG OF WIND

Will, Lawson, a poet and novelist, who for many years lived in New Zealand, and later came to Australia.

Hark to the song of the scattering, scurrying,

Blustering, bullying, bellowing, hurrying Wind!

Over the hills it comes, laughing and rollicking,

Curling and whirling, flying and frolicking,

Spinning the clouds that are scattered and thinned,

And shouting a song

As it gallops along—

A song that is nothing but Wind.

Waking the willows that hang their leaves listlessly, Bending the poplars [1] it roars on resistlessly—Wind! In the long grass on the slopes, as it passes, it

Billows and waves and scatters and masses [2] it, Shaking the fences so solidly pinned,

And howling a song

That is noisy and strong—

A song that is nothing but Wind.

When the leaves of the autumn are falling and yellowing,

We hear the wild song of the bullying, bellowing Wind. It leaps from its lair [3] at a pace that is passionate,

And rends [4] the soft clouds that have aided to fashion it— Thrashing them fiercely, as slaves who have sinned,

With its many-lashed thong,

And yelling a song—

A song that is nothing but Wind.

This is the song of the galloping, hurrying,

Gusty, and dusty, and whirling, and worrying Wind. Over the hills it comes, laughing and rollicking,

Yelling and swooping; and flying, and frolicking, Shaking the fences so solidly pinned,

And shrieking a song

As it gallops along—

A terrible song that is Wind.

—WILL LAWSON

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[1] poplar: A tall, bushy kind of tree.

[2] masses: Gathers together.

[3] lair: Den; home.

[4] rends: Tears.