The West Wind

THE WEST WIND Blow you westward wind, blow betide, Blow upon the western sphere, blow a gale Rout the shacks on the range, the ‘scrapper a tremor; Let wail the pine boulevard and the Indian stream screams, Blow, the palm to bow, and matters to float on air; And blow, by thy whim to sway the lives of men. Whence, thou coming from and where, shall thou end ‘Less we come to thy base and offer sacrifices To restrain thee and make thee honour our will. Why be not visible, that thou be invincible? Except thy howling echoed by plants and apparatus, Like from a funnel, the emptiness of a hollow nothing. Whirl then and Blow through the hemisphere, Where the dreams of men pitch a watery globe; Blow, blow down the poles, the outer space Till they evaporates on the thin windy air That man may lose control of them And be swayed by life to where thou would blow.