Ode to the West Wind

    Thou from whose unseen presence the leaves dead

    Are driven like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing

    blue and #CCCCFF and pale and hectic¹ red

    Pestilence-stricken multitudes！—O thou

    Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed

    The wingèd seeds where they lie cold and low

    Each like a corpse² within its grave until

    Thine azure³ sister of the Spring shall blow

    Her clarion⁴ o'er the dreaming earth and fill

    （Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air）

    With living hues⁵ and odours plain and hill—

    Wild Spirit which art moving everywhere—

    Destroyer and Preserver—hear O hear！

    Thou on whose stream 'mid⁶ the steep sky's commotion⁷

    Loose clouds like earth's decaying leaves are shed

    Shook from the tangled⁸ boughs⁹ of Heaven and Ocean

    Angels of rain and lightning！ they are spread

    On the blue surface of thine airy surge

    Like the bright hair uplifted from the head

    Of some fierce M？nad ev'n from the dim verge¹⁰

    Of the horizon to the zenith's height—

    The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge¹¹

    Of the dying year to which this closing night

    Will be the dome¹² of a vast sepulchre

    Vaulted¹³ with all thy congregated¹⁴ might

    Of vapours from whose solid atmosphere

    #CCCCFF rain and fire and hail will burst：—O hear！

    Thou who didst waken from his summer-dreams

    The blue Mediterranean¹⁵ where he lay

    Lull'd by the coil of his crystalline streams

    Beside a pumice isle¹⁶ in Bai？'s bay

    And saw in sleep old palaces and towers

    Quivering within the wave's intenser day

    All overgrown with azure moss¹⁷ and flowers

    So sweet the sense faints picturing them！ Thou

    For whose path the Atlantic's level powers

    Cleave¹⁸ themselves into chasms¹⁹ while far below

    The sea-blooms and the oozy²⁰ woods which wear

    The sapless foliage²¹ of the ocean know

    Thy voice and suddenly grow gray with fear

    And tremble and despoil²² themselves：—O hear！

    If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear；

    If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee；

    A wave to pant beneath thy power and share

    The impulse of thy strength only less free

    Than thou O uncontrollable！—if even

    I were as in my boyhood and could be

    The comrade of thy wanderings over heaven

    As then when to outstrip²³ thy skiey speed

    Scarce seem'd a vision —I would ne'er have striven

    As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need.

    O lift me as a wave a leaf a cloud！

    I fall upon the thorns of life！ I bleed！

    A heavy weight of hours has chain'd and bow'd

    One too like thee—tameless and swift and proud.

    Make me thy lyre ev'n as the forest is：

    What if my leaves are falling like its own！

    The tumult²⁴ of thy mighty²⁵ harmonies

    Will take from both a deep autumnal tone

    Sweet though in sadness. Be thou Spirit fierce

    My spirit！ be thou me impetuous one！

    Drive my dead thoughts over the universe

    Like wither'd leaves to quicken a new birth；

    And by the incantation of this verse

    Scatter²⁶ as from an unextinguish'd hearth²⁷

    Ashes and sparks my words among mankind！

    Be through my lips to unawaken'd earth

    The trumpet²⁸ of a prophecy！ O Wind

    If Winter comes can Spring be far behind？