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Ode to the West Wind

Percy Bysshe Shelley · 1820

Canto I

1O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being,

2Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead

3Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,

4Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,

5Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou,

6Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed

7The wingèd seeds, where they lie cold and low,

8Each like a corpse within its grave, until

9Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow

10Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill

11(Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air)

12With living hues and odours plain and hill:

13Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere;

14Destroyer and preserver; hear, oh hear!