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THE SOUTH WIND

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Pacific Press Publishing Company · Mountain View, California · Jan 16, 1907

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 33, No. 3.

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THE SOUTH WIND.

By Emma S. Bromley

WHAT do light-blown southern zephyrs Care for aching human heart, Never heeding sighs of mourning, Or how oft the tear-drops start? Merrily they blow and whisper, Cause the leaves to dance and sing; Many waves are fanned in motion By the south wind's gentle wing.
But they never touch the waters In the depths of stream or sea; Never make the ship go swifter To its chosen destiny. Lightly toss the rippling surface, Move the leaves but not the tree. Shall our lives be like the breezes, Shunning burdens in their glee?
Some lone heart may need our gladness; If we'll only heed the call, Like a beacon ray from heaven O'er some cloud our cheer may fall; And we'll never miss the helping We bestow on saddened friend, Never know that 'twas our beaming Led to their victorious end.
Blow then gently, O ye south winds; To our hearts one message teach,— That the deeps can ne'er be fathomed Which a deed of love may reach, Not content with idly living, May we learn unselfishness; Let our gladness touch the sadness Of some human heart and bless. EMMA S. BROMLEY.