Burlington tri-weekly hawk-eye. [volume] (Burlington [Iowa]) 1852-1855, 1855-06-06
From he Chica 80 Journal.
THE IDLE WIND.

4
| THE IDLE WIND.
| Man is verb or ought to bean Active
Transitive Verb in the Potential Mood, pres
ent tense, first person Singular, depending
upon Providence for his Nominatlve Case.
He that can beparsrd in that way is man,
worthy of the Italics we put him in-and
more than that, is no discredit to the little
capitals we appropriate, when we write him
NAN. We have great deal to say about
idle this and idle that, when in fact there is
nothing idle in the world, but man, or some
| thing that he made. The idle WIND? why
it is the busiest thing in nature. 1t has the
contract, and fulflls it too, for carrying all
the seeds With sails, and seeds with
wings, all over the world, and leaving tn IN
here and there and every where-some TO COW
er the rocks nakedness, and some to make
glad the Islands Of The sea. 1t trundled the
thistle down and the Dandelion blow about
the world all last fall and winter, and We
will warrant the disc of the one as round
md yellow as double eagle, gitters by the
road side, and some indignant farmer-we
cannot help being amused though We are
very sorry for hm-is striking away with
hoe at the other, that as green as a rush has
shot up in a fence corner.
Some how the wind never makes mistake
never, to our knowledge, leaves the small
passenger it carries where it cannot live and
thrive. 1t may fling it upon the sand, but
depend upon it he knows how to get a living,
and the Sahara becomes Sarah, as one Of
| old did; it may drift upon rock, bat be sure
it will cling to it for dear life, and struggle
bravely, and the wind shall bring it hand
full of dust, and drop of rain, and it shall
become an Evergreen, over which December
has no dominion at all.
Then the wind has the sailing Of the great
fleets Of clouds in all seas Of the air, and
then drives them to and fro, as they are con-
signed with their freight of beauty and bless
ing, and it brings'up the great black men of
war into the mid summer heav en-, where there
is no danger Of lee shore, and then how
they open ports and clear up the air, and let
down green for the grasses and go for the
roses, and paler robes for the lilies below.
But clouds and colors are not all it car
ries, for while it waited breath with ice in
it to the sultry line yesterday, it returned
with sweet south tribute to the Attic to- day.
You open your window in June, and it show
ers in upon you a heart full Of fragrance
from the meadows of clover, and gushes Of
bird music from the woodland beyond.
Then how busy is the wind all abroad upon
the waters. How it marshals the great plumed
waves Of the sea, and hurls them upoa the
shore, till the charge of Balaklava is nothing
to sing of. And yet it finds time to trife
with the brook and curl its waters, and frill
them into ruhes of silver; and to play with
the turban Of cloud wherewith Niagara has
bound bis brow, and rob him of a piece of
the ribbon of rainbow that adorns it, and
watt it away for ga favor"
Then AGAIN tho wind ia n rlorinus Epo.ro
Have you never seen it have you never seen
it shake out the bunting from mainmast and
mzzen? have you not heard how it unfurls
the banners Of armies till they grow terrible
to look unon? Aud how gently in the mora
ing does 1t ..ift the bed curtains of silver ms
that night bad hung over the river like cam
opy, aad lcs it fash along with unobsclred
glory.
AS for mus c, what 80 wonderful rs the
wind? We extend si.ken thread in the
crevice of the window, and it finds it and
signs over it, and sings round it, and goes
UP and downtae scale upon it, and poor Pa
ginlni must 60 somewhere else for his honor
tor 10! the wind is performing with single
string! 1t tries almost everything upon earth |
to see if there is music in it; it makes q
mournful harp of the giant pines, and it does
not disdain, to try what sort Of whistle
can be made Of the humblest chimney in the |
world. How it viii! play upon great tree. |
till every leaf thrills with the note in ii, and |
wind up the river that runs at lis base, for |
sort of murmuring accompaniment.
But all this is nothing to the great melody
it makes, when ii gives concert with full
choir of the waves of the sea, and performs |
mighty anthem between the two worlds |
that goes up perhaps, to the stars that love
music the most and sang it the first.
And who does not know that the wind is
watch maker, and goes about in garden and
orchard and field, to solcmnize the weddings
among the blossoms of tree and flower,
where there is always an Adam for every Eve
and the wealth Of the harvest to crown the
nuptials. There is wooing and winning go
ing on around US, among those whose
marriages never appear in the newspapers,
and who never would have been welded at
all, if the Wind had been idle or weary.
The Wind is something of waltzer with
al. Sometimes it takes feather for part
ner, and sometimes an oak, now it dances
around the corners like fairy, and now it
takes the corners with, it like giant. Oc-
casionally it whisks away a root like cam
brio handkerchief, and then again it trips so
lightly, that the flowers nod gaily to the
measure, SO gently is it. But then there is
no harm in this rude froiic, put great deal
Of blessing. How the strong Wind setting in
from the sea, furls the broad, heavy wings Of
the Death-angel, that broods over the crowed
city, and carries away with it too, the cob
webs that some sly, moody spider of
thought has woven in the hooks and corners
of the brain.
The Wind is something of an artist too,
and does things with the snow, that Powers
never did with the Parian, but then it is the
month Of May, and we will e'en let its genius,