Winds Of The Cape
Winds of the Cape, go tearing by
Down the wild canyons of the sky!
When winter’s cold has stripped the trees,
And fields are bare and waters freeze,
We hear them in the dead of night
Careering on their headlong flight -
The formless horsemen of the blast
In gales of darkness rushing past!
Winds of the Cape in gladness ring
With all the lilting songs of spring!
When fresh and clean the world awakes,
And petals fall in snowy flakes
From beach plum bush and apple tree
There comes the haunting melody
From sky land’s caravans once more -
Wild geese in flight for Labrador!
Winds of the Cape in Summer days
When shore and dune dissolve in haze,
Come drifting down the heavenly leas
From cloudland’s floating Hebrides,
Caressing with your langorous calm,
And coolness like a healing balm;
And whispering tales of Araby
Palm fringing some enchanted sea.
Winds of the Cape, what sadness blends
In those wild gusts that Autumn sends
Down empty hallways of the sky,
To echo ever mournfully
The footsteps of the dying year;
To grieve o’er woods and meadows sere
For things we loved so much - but lost
Like blossoms withered by the frost.