Wind blow blow where you will,
Find your strength and rush.
Howl and whistle through hill,
Send your epistle and crush.
For yet am I standing still,
Not battered or broken as frush.

Tempest storm of life oh!
Cruelest waves of pain,
Most eagerly do you show,
The days I rue our gain
I wish I didn't know.
And ne'er shall we twain.