When winds go organing through the pines
On hill and headland, darkly gleaming,
Meseems I hear sonorous lines
Of Iliads that the woods are dreaming.
Cookies on Poetry Cove
We use cookies to remember your language preference and — only with your consent — to learn how Poetry Cove is used. You can change your mind any time.
THE WIND IN THE PINES · Madison Julius Cawein · Poetry Cove