Charles Lloyd - The Breeze lyrics

When from my dreary home I first moved on After my friend was in her grave-clothes dressed, A dim despondence on my spirit pressed As all my pleasant days were come and gone! Strange whispers parted from the entombing clay, The thin air murmured, each dumb object spake, Bidding my overwhelméd bosom ache; Oft did I look to heaven, but could not pray. "How shall I leave thee, quiet scene?" said I, "How leave the pa**ing breeze that loves to sweep The holy sod where my due footsteps creep?" "The pa**ing breeze? It was she! Thy friend pa**ed by!" But the time came; the pa**ing breeze I left; "Farewell," I sighed; and seemed of all bereft.