The Wind and the Pine-Tree

Sir Henry Taylor (1800–1886)

From “Edwin the Fair”

THE TALE was this:

The wind, when first he rose and went abroad

Through the waste region, felt himself at fault,

Wanting a voice; and suddenly to earth

Descended with a wafture and a swoop,

Where, wandering volatile from kind to kind,

He wooed the several trees to give him one.

First he besought the ash; the voice she lent

Fitfully with a free and lasting change

Flung here and there its sad uncertainties:

The aspen next; a fluttered frivolous twitter

Was her sole tribute: from the willow came,

So long as dainty summer dressed her out,

A whispering sweetness, but her winter note

Was hissing, dry, and reedy: lastly the pine

Did he solicit, and from her he drew

A voice so constant, soft, and lowly deep,

That there he rested, welcoming in her

A mild memorial of the ocean-cave

Where he was born.