The Wind didn’t come from the Orchard — today –
Further than that –
Nor stop to play with the Hay –
Nor joggle a Hat –
He’s a transitive fellow — very –
Rely on that –
If He leave a Bur at the door
We know He has climbed a Fir –
But the Fir is Where — Declare –
Were you ever there?
If He brings Odors of Clovers –
And that is His business — not Ours –
Then He has been with the Mowers –
Whetting away the Hours
To sweet pauses of Hay –
His Way — of a June Day –
If He fling Sand, and Pebble –
Little Boys Hats — and Stubble –
With an occasional Steeple –
And a hoarse “Get out of the way, I say,”
Who’d be the fool to stay?
Would you — Say –
Would you be the fool to stay?
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Kill your Balm — and its Odors bless you –
Bare your Jessamine — to the storm –
And she will fling her maddest perfume –
Haply — your Summer night to Charm –
Stab the Bird — that built in your bosom –
Oh, could you catch her last Refrain –
Bubble! “forgive” — “Some better” — Bubble!
“Carol for Him — when I am gone”!
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