Explore "The Winds" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
/ Those hewers of the clouds, the Winds, -- that lair / At the four compass-points, -- are out to-night; / I hear their sandals trample on the height, / I hear their voices trumpet through the air: / Builders of storm, God's workmen, now they bear, / Up the steep stair of sky, on backs of might, / Huge tempest bulks, while, -- sweat that blinds heir sight, -- / The rain is shaken from tumultuous hair: / Now, sweepers of the firmament, they broom, / Like gathered dust, the rolling mists along / Heaven's floors of sapphire; all the beautiful blue / Of skyey corridor and celestial room / Preparing, with large laughter and loud song, / For the white moon and stars to wander through.