Trenchant Wind

The trenchant wind, sings it’s sad refrain,

And the clouds caught wind, and must refrain, from crying over the high glades again,

—From crying over the high glades again,

Drown the plains below that pleasant memory retains of what fertility it gained,

—And below what memory it retains and fertility it gained,

Is a lively wind of coming spring, that growth and happiness bring,

—A lively wind of coming spring that growth and happiness bring

The soft fluttering of flighted wings, and slowly puddles to wash the hatchlings;

A trenchant wind—however sad it blows—slow through the embrace of motherly boughs

A trenchant wind is settling, and changing slow

And all that is of nature knows, and all are ready to let it go

Because a changing wind, brings a season of promising growth