by Wilfrid Wilson Gibson (1878 - 1962)

The wind
Language: English 
To the lean clean land, to the last cold height
you shall come with a whickering breath
from the depths of despair or the depths of delight
stript stark to the wind of death.

And whether you're sinless, or whether you've sinned,
it's useless to whimper and whine,
for the lean clean blade of the cutthroat wind
will slit your weasand and mine.

Authorship:

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):


Researcher for this text: John Versmoren

This text was added to the website: 2004-07-07
Line count: 8
Word count: 63