Here in the pungent gloom br Where the tamarac roses glow br And the balsam burns its perfume, br A vireo turns his slow br Cadence, as if he gloated br Over the last phrase he floated; br Each one he moulds and mellows br Matching it with its fellows: br So have you noted br How the oboe croons, br The canary-throated, br In the gloom of the violoncellos br And bassoons. br br But afar in the thickset forest br I hear a sound go free, br Crashing the stately neighbours br The pine and the cedar tree, br Horns and harps and tabors, br Drumming and harping and horning br In savage minstrelsy-- br It wakes in my soul a warning br Of the wind of destiny. br br My life is soaring and swinging br In triple walls of quiet, br In my heart there is rippling and ringing br A song with melodious riot, br When a fateful thing comes nigh it br A hush falls, and then br I hear in the thickset world br The wind of destiny hurled br On the lives of men.