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An East Wind
By Ella Wheeler Wilcox
The glitter of wheels far down the street
(Ah me, and alack a day.)
And I heard the thud of his horse's feet
Beating a roundelay.
And I felt a little song coming, coming
Over my lips as humming, humming,
I turned my eyes that way.
Somebody passed, who was wont to pause:
(Ah me, and alack a day.)
He bowed and smiled; yet for some cause
The mirth went out of my lay.
A wind from the east rose, sighing, sighing,
I felt my little song dying, dying,
She laughed as they rode away.
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