A Song in Summer

If I were but the west wind, 
   I would follow you; 
Cross a hundred hills to find 
   Your world of green and blue;

In your pine wood linger,
   Whisper to you there 
Stories old and strange, and finger
   Softly your bright hair.

From The Poems of Sophie Jewett (Thomas Y. Crowell & Co., 1910) by Sophie Jewett. Copyright © Thomas Y. Crowell & Co. This poem is in the public domain.