The Wanderer to His Hearts Desire

I think of you —

A picture framed in sombre trees,

Eyes where a gleam of sky breaks through

Grey days on summer seas.

The Western wind,

That runs the prairies like a flame,

Bears in his fragrant garments twined

A whisper of your name.

Then do you send

A blown kiss in the wind's long hair,

And though I sleep at the world's end

Yet will it find me there.