William Cullen Bryant Quotes on Wind
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The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore, And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more.
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The stormy March has come at last, With winds and clouds and changing skies; I hear the rushing of the blast That through the snowy valley flies.
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Where hast thou wandered, gentle gale, to find the perfumes thou dost bring?