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Poem	The winds came out of the west one day, And hurried the clouds before them; And drove the shadows and mists away, And over the mountains bore them. And I wept, 'Oh, wind, blow into my mind, Blow into my soul and heart, And scatter the clouds that hang lile shrouds, And make the shadows depart.' The rain came out of th eleaden skies And beat on the earth's cold bosom. It said to the sleeping grass, 'Arise, ' And the young buds sprang in blossom. And I wept in pain, 'Oh, blessed rain, Beat into my heart to-day; Thaw out the snows that are chilling it so, Till it blossoms in hope, I pray.' The sunshine fell on the bare-armed trees, In a wonderful sheen of glory; And the young leaves rustled and sang to the breeze, And whispered a love-fraught story. And 'Sun, oh, shine on this heart of mine, And woo it to life, ' I cried; But the wind, and sun, and rain, each one The coveted boon denied
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