Windswept Days

   Westron wynde, when wyll thow blow,
   The smalle rayne downe can rayne.
   Cryst, yf my love were in my armys,
   And I yn my bed agayne.

See the child at play
in wind and rain
and then the man,
sewing together
his windswept days
before the dying.

O westron wynde,
when wyll thow blow
and take me riding
once again.

* “Westron Wynde” is among the earliest and most 
beautiful songs in English. The poet and original music 
are unknown, and perhaps better so.