ODE TO THE WEST WIND

 

 

ODE TO THE WEST WIND

 

by: Percy Bysshe Shelly (1792-1822)

 

WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being,

Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead

Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,

 

Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic 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 corpse within its grave, until

Thine azure sister of the spring shall blow

 

Large

 

texture by Skeletalmess , silhouette by Faestock , grass by me

 

faestock.deviantart.com/

Done