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1850–1919

AN EAST WIND

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The glitter of wheels far down the street ( Ah me, and alack a day. ) And I heard the thud of his horse's feet Beating a roundelay.

And I felt a little song coming, coming Over my lips as humming, humming, I turned my eyes that way. Somebody passed, who was wont to pause:

( Ah me, and alack a day. ) He bowed and smiled; yet for some cause The mirth went out of my lay. A wind from the east rose, sighing, sighing,

I felt my little song dying, dying, She laughed as they rode away.

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AN EAST WIND · Ella Wheeler Wilcox · Poetry Cove