The wind is singing through the trees to-night, br A deep-voiced song of rushing cadences br And crashing intervals. No summer breeze br Is this, though hot July is at its height, br Gone is her gentler music; with delight br She listens to this booming like the seas, br These elemental, loud necessities br Which call to her to answer their swift might. br Above the tossing trees shines down a star, br Quietly bright; this wild, tumultuous joy br Quickens nor dims its splendour. And my mind, br O Star! is filled with your white light, from far, br So suffer me this one night to enjoy br The freedom of the onward sweeping wind.