Why, O wind of summer.
Why that restless moan?
Weepest thou for pleasures
That are past and gone?
Mournest thou for visions
That have fled away,
Or hopes which only flourished
To wither and decay?

Hath thy loved-one left thee
To misfortune's smart,
With a wounded spirit
And a broken heart?
Grievest thou like Ellen,
O, thou moaning wind,
For the scorn and pity
Of a world unkind?

Let us mourn together,
O! thou midnight blast,
For the joys which wither,
For the woes which last!
For the scorn and falsehood
Which have seared my mind,
Weep and mourn with Ellen,
Sweet, sweet summer wind!