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 Rh HE wind is very cold! Does it blow from the ultimate sea, Or over cities sad and old, Lost beyond memory?" ' So cried my heart to my soul,      As it shivered by its side; But "Follow the wind — follow the wind!"       My soul replied.

And the wind led them on and on. Till they came to the city of Dis; "Here shall we rest!" my poor heart cried, "Here shall we find our bliss; Behold, this is great Babylon!     The Heart's Desire is this!" And it blessed itself and blessed my soul With a wicked heathen kiss. So cried my heart to my soul. As it shivered by its side. But "Follow the wind — follow the wind!" My soul replied.

And the wind led them on and on. Till they came to the city of God. "Here shall we rest!" my poor heart cried. And tears of blood it poured. "On these streets shine the sun and the moon:     The City of God is this!"