Lines For Music.

A poem by Frances Anne Kemble

Loud wind, strong wind, where art thou blowing?
Into the air, the viewless air,
To be lost there:
There am I blowing.

Clear wave, swift wave, where art thou flowing?
Unto the sea, the boundless sea,
To be whelm'd there:
There am I flowing.

Young life, swift life, where art thou going?
Down to the grave, the loathsome grave,
To moulder there:
There am I going.