Where The Wind Has Been

No one knows where the wind has been,
Who all it’s touched, how long ago;
But the same sorrow lived with whomever it was,
That much, I think, we know —

For a heart is a shore on which waves will crash,
And a life is just rocks on which hopes must dash,
And the wind, just a chorus to sing our pain,
As it has done, and will do,

Again

 
And again

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