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| IT is good to strive against wind and rain | |
| In the keen, sweet weather that autumn brings. | |
| The wild horse shakes not the drops from his mane, | |
| The wild bird flicks not the wet from her wings, | |
| In gladder fashion than I toss free | 5 |
| The mist-dulled gold of my bright hair’s flag, | |
| What time the winds on their heel-wings lag, | |
| And all the tempest is friends with me. | |
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| None can reach me to wound or cheer; | |
| Sound of weeping and sound of song— | 10 |
| Neither may trouble me: I can hear | |
| But the wind’s loud laugh, and the sibilant, strong, | |
| Lulled rush of the rain through the sapless weeds. | |
| O rare, dear days, ye are here again! | |
| I will woo ye as maidens are wooed of men,— | 15 |
| With oaths forgotten and broken creeds! | |
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| Ye shall not lack for the sun’s fierce shining— | |
| With the gold of my hair will I make ye glad; | |
| For your blown, red forests give no repining— | |
| Here are my lips: will ye still be sad? | 20 |
| Comfort ye, comfort ye, days of cloud, | |
| Days of shadow, of wrath, of blast— | |
| I who love ye am come at last. | |
| Laugh to welcome me! cry aloud! | |
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| For wild am I as thy winds and rains— | 25 |
| Free to come and to go as they; | |
| Love’s moon sways not the tides of my veins; | |
| There is no voice that can bid me stay. | |
| Out and away on the drenched, brown lea! | |
| Out to the great, glad heart of the year! | 30 |
| Nothing to grieve for, nothing to fear,— | |
| Fetterless, lawless, a maiden free! | |
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