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120 POEMS.
��XVI. THE WIND.
TT 's like the light,
- A fashionless delight
It's like the bee, A dateless melody.
It 's like the woods, Private like breeze,
Phraseless, yet it stirs The proudest trees.
It 's like the morning, Best when it 's done,
The everlasting clocks Chime noon.
�� �
