THE WINDS. William Lisle Bowles Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. Bowles, William Lisle, 1762-1850. The Poetical Works of William Lisle Bowles, Vol. I. With Memoir, Critical Dissertation, and Explanatory Notes by George Gilfillan. Edinburgh James Nichol, 9 North Bank Street... 1855 pp. 166-169.

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THE WINDS . When dark November bade the leaves adieu , And the gale sung amid the sea-boy's shrouds , Methought I saw four winged forms , that flew , With garments streaming light , amid the clouds ; From adverse regions of the sky , In dim succession , they went by . The first , as o'er the billowy deep he passed , Blew from its brazen trump a far-resounding blast . Upon a beaked promontory high , With streaming heart , and cloudy brow severe , Marked ye the father of the frowning year ! " Then comes the father of the tempest forth . " — Thomson . Dark vapours rolled o'er the tempestuous sky , When creeping Winter from his cave came forth ; Stern courier of the storm , he cried , what from the north ? NORTH WIND . From the vast and desert deeps , Where the lonely Kraken sleeps , Where fixed the icy mountains high Glimmer to the twilight sky ; Where , six lingering months to last , The night has closed , the day is past , Father , lo , I come , I come : I have heard the wizard's drum , And the withered Lapland hag , Seal , with muttered spell , her bag : O'er mountains white , and forests sere , I flew , and with a wink am here . WINTER . Spirit of unwearied wing , From the Baltic's frozen main , From the Russ's bleak domain , Say , what tidings dost thou bring ! Shouts , and the noise of battle ! and again The winged wind blew loud a deadly blast ; Shouts , and the noise of battle ! the long main Seemed with hoarse voice to answer as he passed . The moody South went by , and silence kept ; The cloudy rack oft hid his mournful mien , And frequent fell the showers , as if he wept The eternal havoc of this mortal scene . He had heard the yell , and cry , And howling dance of Anarchy , Where the Rhone , with rushing flood , Murmured to the main , through blood : — He seemed to wish he could for ever throw His misty mantle o'er a world of woe . But rousing him from his desponding trance , Cold Eurus blew his sharp and shrilling horn ; In his right hand he bore an icy lance , That far off glittered in the frost of morn ; The old man knew the clarion from afar , What from the East ? he cried . EAST WIND . Shouts , and the noise of war ! Far o'er the land hath been my flight , O'er many a forest dark as night , O'er champaigns where the Tartar speeds , O'er Wolga's wild and giant reeds , O'er the Carpathian summits hoar , Beneath whose snows and shadows frore , Poland's level length unfolds Her trackless woods and wildering wolds , Like a spirit , seeking rest , I have passed from east to west , While sounds of discord and lament Rose from the earth where'er I went . I care not ; hurrying , as in scorn , I shook my lance , and blew my horn ; The day shows clear ; and merrily Along the Atlantic now I fly . Who comes in soft and spicy vest , From the mild regions of the West ? An azure veil bends waving o'er his head , And showers of violets from his hands are shed . 'Tis Zephyr , with a look as young and fair As when his lucid wings conveyed That beautiful and gentle maid Psyche , transported through the air , The blissful couch of Love's own god to share . Winter , avaunt ! thy haggard eye Will scare him , as he wanders by , Him and the timid butterfly . He brings again the morn of May ; The lark , amid the clear blue sky , Carols , but is not seen so high , And all the winter's winds fly far away ! I cried : O Father of the world , whose might The storm , the darkness , and the winds obey , Oh , when will thus the long tempestuous night Of warfare and of woe be rolled away ! Oh , when will cease the uproar and the din , And Peace breathe soft , Summer is coming in !