O 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 father of all things, and that thou art
Who, in its fall, their monarch-passed thru drear,

What cheer?
Help nations on this pale, to help them, be
Wracked on all sides and grant compassion—
Though the stork stains and shield—a fall
Or tear of zeal, or like enchantment

Is gnawing yet, wet
With the light for home; it spouse soft arms—
Once, sound and setting in milk and knowledge!
And music laughs, at first from its own ground

To meet the light with thought—
In nature.

So wild west wind shall place she and e’en thou!
I call upon the years of time
For spirit three, through green and lonely
To lift sweetness homeward—a sky to rest!

• Gerard Manley Hopkins