To the Sun-Set Breeze
Ah, whispering, something again, unseen,
Where late this heated day thou enterest
at my window
Thou, laving, tempering all, cool-freshing,
gently vitalizing
Me, old, alone, sick, weak-down, melted -
worn with sweat;
Thou, nestling, folding close and firm yet soft,
companion better than talk, book, art,
So sweet thy primitive taste to breathe within—
thy soothing fingers on my face and hands,
Thou, messenger—magical strange bringer
to body and spirit of me,
(Distances balk’d—occult medicines
penetrating me from head to foot,)
I feel the sky, the prairies vast -
I feel the mighty northern lakes,
I feel the ocean and the forest -
somehow I feel the globe itself
swift-swimming in space …
