The wind was on the withered heath But in the forest stirred no leaf There shadows lay by night and day When one came down he lost his faith The wind came down from mountains cold And like a tide it roared and rolled The branches groaned, the forest moaned And leafs were laid upon the stoned The wind went on from west to east All movement in the forest ceased But shrill and harsh, across the marsh where the whistling voices rush The grasses hissed, their tassels bent The reeds were rattling - on it went Where racing clouds were rent and torn For fate and trust they were not born It passed the lonely mountain bare And swept above the dragon's lair There black and dark lay boulders stark And flying smoke was the expired mark It left the world and took its flight Over the wide seas of the night The moon set sail upon the gale The dark tower as the holy frail...
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