TELL me, ye wingèd winds,
    That round my pathway roar,
  Do ye not know some spot
    Where mortals weep no more?
  Some lone and pleasant dell,
    Some valley in the west,
  Where, free from toil and pain,
    The weary soul may rest?
The loud wind dwindled to a whisper low,
And sighed for pity as it answered,—“No...