O wind,thou that art scented with the scents,
Of a thousand fallen leaves and grass,art
The hoper's hope,and carry,in torrents,
The wishes of all,of all that have heart.

Bear my wish! I wish that my soul be gone!
Be gone with thee,there,where no burdens lie,
On the poor flesh,and that I be alone,
So I may,my own meek self falsify!

But if you can't carry my sullied soul,
Take my lips to my love,so I may speak,
And in my gentlest manner,kiss her all.
Or bring me the scent of her rosy cheek!

Be steady,O wind,for on thee I rest,
My hope,that does all my love manifest.