The lost wind wandering, forever grieves <br /> Low overhead, <br />Above grey mosses whispering of leaves <br /> Fallen and dead. <br />And through the lonely night sweeps their refrain <br />Like Chopin's prelude, sobbing 'neath the rain.<br /><br />Emily Pauline Johnson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mosses/
