| |
| THE WIND one morning sprang up from sleep, | |
| Saying, “Now for a frolic! now for a leap! | |
| Now for a mad-cap galloping chase! | |
| I ’ll make a commotion in every place!” | |
| So it swept with a bustle right through a great town, | 5 |
| Creaking the signs, and scattering down | |
| Shutters; and whisking, with merciless squalls, | |
| Old women’s bonnets and gingerbread stalls: | |
| There never was heard a much lustier shout, | |
| As the apples and oranges tumbled about; | 10 |
| And the urchins, that stand with their thievish eyes | |
| Forever on watch, ran off each with a prize. | |
| Then away to the field it went blustering and humming, | |
| And the cattle all wondered whatever was coming; | |
| It plucked by the tails the grave matronly cows, | 15 |
| And tossed the colts’ manes all over their brows, | |
| Till, offended at such a familiar salute, | |
| They all turned their backs and stood sulkily mute. | |
| So on it went, capering, and playing its pranks, | |
| Whistling with reeds on the broad river’s banks, | 20 |
| Puffing the birds as they sat on the spray, | |
| Or the traveller grave on the king’s highway. | |
| It was not too nice to hustle the bags | |
| Of the beggar, and flutter his dirty rags: | |
| ’T was so bold, that it feared not to play its joke | 25 |
| With the doctor’s wig or the gentleman’s cloak. | |
| Through the forest it roared, and cried, gayly, “Now, | |
| You sturdy old oaks, I ’ll make you bow!” | |
| And it made them bow without more ado, | |
| Or cracked their great branches through and through. | 30 |
| Then it rushed, like a monster, on cottage and farm, | |
| Striking their dwellers with sudden alarm, | |
| So they ran out like bees when threatened with harm. | |
| There were dames with their kerchiefs tied over their caps, | |
| To see if their poultry were free from mishaps; | 35 |
| The turkeys they gobbled, the geese screamed aloud, | |
| And the hens crept to roost in a terrified crowd; | |
| There was rearing of ladders, and logs laying on, | |
| Where the thatch from the roof threatened soon to be gone. | |
| But the wind had swept on, and met in a lane | 40 |
| With a school-boy, who panted and struggled in vain: | |
| For it tossed him, and twirled him, then passed, and he stood | |
| With his hat in a pool, and his shoe in the mud. | |
| Then away went the wind in its holiday glee! | |
| And now it was far on the billowy sea; | 45 |
| And the lordly ships felt its staggering blow, | |
| And the little boats darted to and fro:— | |
| But lo! night came, and it sank to rest | |
| On the sea-bird’s rock in the gleaming west, | |
| Laughing to think, in its fearful fun, | 50 |
| How little of mischief it had done! | |
| |
