Tyler

By Thomas Carlyle The wind blows east, the wind blows west, And the frost falls and the rain: A weary heart went thankful to rest, And must rise to toil again, ’gain, And must rise to toil again.
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The wind blows east, the wind blows west, And there comes good luck and bad; The thriftiest man is the cheerfulest; ’Tis a thriftless thing to be sad, sad, ’Tis a thriftless thing to be sad.

The wind blows east, the wind blows west; Ye shall know a tree by its fruit: This world, they say, is worst to the best;— But a dastard has evil to boot, boot, But a dastard has evil to boot.

The wind blows east, the wind blows west; What skills it to mourn or to talk? A journey I have, and far ere I rest; I must bundle my wallets and walk, walk, I must bundle my wallets and walk.

The wind does blow as it lists alway; Canst thou change this world to thy mind? The world will wander its own wise way; I also will wander mine, mine, I also will wander mine.