A Poem for Labor Day

I’m taking the day off, as I hope most of you are, too. And if you happen to have stopped by my corner of the Internet (as I can only surmise you have), here’s a poem to tide you over till tomorrow:

Lines Composed in a Wood on a Windy Day
Anne Brontë

My soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring
And carried aloft on the wings of the breeze;
For above and around me the wild wind is roaring,
Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas.

The long withered grass in the sunshine is glancing,
The bare trees are tossing their branches on high;
The dead leaves beneath them are merrily dancing,
The white clouds are scudding across the blue sky.

I wish I could see how the ocean is lashing
The foam of its billows to whirlwinds of spray;
I wish I could see how its proud waves are dashing,
And hear the wild roar of their thunder to-day!