From The Birmingham Age-Herald, May 23, 1913. By Robert Loveman. The wind has a mind of his own He’s a lover and rover free He mutters among the clouds He flutters above the sea; He ravages regions rare Where savages leap in glee He strips the forests bare In autumnal ecstasy. The wind is a child of earth Of ocean, air and sky, He joys at a young world’s birth He moans when the old ones die; He can woo a nodding rose to rest Or trample an empire down, He’s sceptered king of everything And the high stars are his crown.