Clinton Scollard

The Wind of Mourne

  The wind of Mourne comes over the hill,
    Over the hill with a trill of song,
  And the word of the wind sets my heart athrill,--
    "Though life is brief, yet love is long!"

  I seek my sweet where the roses stir,
    And the stars overhead are a marching throng,
  And this is the tale that I tell to her,--
    "Though life is brief, yet love is long!"