Oh wicked wind where have you been
What kind of trouble are you in
You’ve set your aim upon the waves
And sent great ships unto their graves.
You’ve damaged all the tallest sails
With wild velocity of gales
You’ve churned the sea into a broil
Unfit for gentleman or churl.
All islands are in fear of you
Because of ravages you do
The mountains cower under seige
Due to the damages you leave.
The sands of deserts crowd the air
Because your strength does tarry there
Where do you fit into God’s scheme
I do not know, I can but dream !
