Ode to the West Wind
Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is:
What if my leaves are falling like ite own!
The tumult of thy mighty 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 death thoughts over the universe
Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth!
And,by the incantation of this verse,
Scatter,as from an unextinguished hearth
Ashes and sparks,my words among mankind!
Be through my lips to unawakended earth
The trumpet of a prophecy!O Wind,
If Winnter comes,can Spring be far behind?