Wind Of The North, (Part 2) Cusp Of Autumn Sky

Wind of the North!
With stirring notes you blow your ancient horn
which now lies mute on the burgeoning ground
and inflamed by the glories you have won;
let not your noble song be haute or proud,
rest a voice unable to rage aloud
regain strength till the cusp of autumn sky!
And though your will and pride be humbly bowed
these burdens you still carry from on high
as you view the earth from the tempest of your eye.