Page:Songs and Sonnets (1906).djvu/97

Rh At night when inner tempests blow,
 * And sleep forsakes my weary eye,

I love to hear the wind without
 * Go storming by.

It speaks my own wild native tongue
 * And gives me courage to withstand,

As if a comrade came to me
 * And took my hand.

I love all things that God has made
 * In earth or sea or heavens bright,

But most I love the prairie winds
 * That blow at night.