Paul Hamilton Hayne (1830–1886)

I THINK, ofttimes, that lives of men may be

Likened to wandering winds that come and go,

Not knowing whence they rise, whither they blow

O’er the vast globe, voiceful of grief or glee.

Some lives are buoyant zephyrs sporting free

In tropic sunshine; some, long winds of woe

That shun the day, wailing with murmurs low,

Through haunted twilights, by the unresting sea;

Others are ruthless, stormful, drunk with might,

Born with deep passion or malign desire:

They rave ’mid thunder-peals and clouds of fire.

Wild, reckless all, save that some power unknown

Guides each blind force till life be overblown,

Lost in vague hollows of the fathomless night.