O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou, Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air) With living hues and odours plain and hill: Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere; Destroyer and preserver; hear, oh hear!
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O wild West Wind, you breath of autumn, whose unseen presence drives the dead leaves like ghosts fleeing a magician — yellow, black, pale, feverish red, like crowds struck by plague. O you who carry the winged seeds to their cold winter bed, where they lie like corpses in graves until your blue sister Spring blows her trumpet over the dreaming earth and fills hill and plain with living colours and scents. Wild spirit, moving everywhere, destroyer and preserver: hear me, hear me!