A RONDEL. 
 
THE wail of the wind in the desolate land 
Lifts voice where the heaven lies pallid and 
blind ; 
Sweeps over the hills from the sea and the sand 
The wail of the wind. 
 
The earth gives a bleak echo back, and behind 
Lurk sorrows and sins in the grasp of a hand, 
And love and despair are the lords of mankind. 
 
The mountains are steadfast ;  immutably grand, 
Bid me to their bosom the chain to unbind : 
At peace and at pity I now understand 
The wail of the wind. 
 
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