It's A Warm Wind, The West Wind,

I Have Seen The Lady April Bringing The Daffodils, Bringing The Springing Grass And The Soft Warm April Rain.

From '41 To '51i Was My Folk's Contrary Son;i Bit My Father's Hand Right Throughand Broke My Mother's Heart In Two.

Heaven To Me's A Fair Blue Stretch Of Sky, Earth's Jest A Dusty Road.

The Social States Of Human Kinds Are Made By Multitudes Of Minds, And After Multitudes Of Years A Little Human Growth Appears Worth Having, Even To The Soul Who Sees Most Plain It's Not The Whole.

Man With His Burning Soul Has But An Hour Of Breath To Build A Ship Of Truth In Which His Soul May Sail- Sail On The Sea Of Death. For Death Takes Toll Of Beauty, Courage, Youth, Of All But Truth.