THE HOME OF THE WEST WIND 151 



nearer with gentle, hog-backed waves that hid their 

 strength, I passed before it and retreated by cliff- 

 ways where the honeysuckle, the golden-rod, and 

 the burnet-rose flourished together aloft and made no 

 quarrel with the wind that dwarfed and stunted them 

 and robbed them of adult shape. 



Nor is it well that any shall question the way 

 of that primal giant. At the will of Nature he 

 has played on this harp of awful crags and preci- 

 pices since first they were heaved out of the earth, 

 A blind servant is he, and his work is other than 

 to please man or consider the sons of men. Quarrel 

 not with him that he drowned those you love ; bless 

 him not for bringing the rain. He is oblivious of 

 your desire, of your joy or your sorrow, and the tre- 

 mendous breath of him that now touches your cheek, 

 passes from it with caress as rough or gentle to the 

 beasts of the field and the graves of the dead. To- 

 day he plays with your children's curls and helps the 

 fledgling's flight; to-morrow he lifts up the sea against 

 the earth and makes war between them ; he destroys 

 the ships and those who after long wandering have 

 sighted home ; he drags forth by their roots the ancient 

 trees of the forest, shakes the mountains, and shatters 

 the patient and precious work of man. 



