Winds Of The Cape

Winds of the Cape, go tearing by Down the wild canyons of the sky! When winter’s cold has stripped the trees, And fields are bare and waters freeze, We hear them in the dead of night Careering on their headlong flight - The formless horsemen of the blast In gales of darkness rushing past! Winds of the Cape in gladness ring With all the lilting songs of spring! When fresh and clean the world awakes, And petals fall in snowy flakes From beach plum bush and apple tree There comes the haunting melody From sky land’s caravans once more - Wild geese in flight for Labrador! Winds of the Cape in Summer days When shore and dune dissolve in haze, Come drifting down the heavenly leas From cloudland’s floating Hebrides, Caressing with your langorous calm, And coolness like a healing balm; And whispering tales of Araby Palm fringing some enchanted sea. Winds of the Cape, what sadness blends In those wild gusts that Autumn sends Down empty hallways of the sky, To echo ever mournfully The footsteps of the dying year; To grieve o’er woods and meadows sere For things we loved so much - but lost Like blossoms withered by the frost.