To The Summer Wind Poem by John Bannister Tabb
To The Summer Wind
Art thou the selfsame wind that blew
When I was but a boy?
Thy voice is like the voice I knew,
And yet the thrill of joy
Has softened to a sadder tone-
Perchance the echo of mine own.
Beside a sea of memories
In solitude I dwell:
Upon the shore forsaken lies
Alas! no murmuring shell!
Are all the voices lost to me
Still wandering the world with thee?
Thursday, September 2, 2010
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4/24/2024 9:29:46 PM # 1.0.0.1119
