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 In measure, when it shooteth forth, thou wilt debate with it: he 
stayeth his rough wind in the day read more 
 In measure, when it shooteth forth, thou wilt debate with it: he 
stayeth his rough wind in the day of the east wind. 
 As winds come whispering lightly from the West,
 Kissing, not ruffling, the blue deep's serene.  
 As winds come whispering lightly from the West,
 Kissing, not ruffling, the blue deep's serene. 
But certain winds will make men's temper bad.
But certain winds will make men's temper bad.
 The wind moans, like a long wail from some despairing soul shut 
out in the awful storm!  
 The wind moans, like a long wail from some despairing soul shut 
out in the awful storm! 
 I hear the wind among the trees
 Playing the celestial symphonies;
  I see the branches downward bent,
read more 
 I hear the wind among the trees
 Playing the celestial symphonies;
  I see the branches downward bent,
   Like keys of some great instrument. 
 Where hast thou wandered. gentle gale, to find
 The perfumes thou dost bring?  
 Where hast thou wandered. gentle gale, to find
 The perfumes thou dost bring? 
 The wind, the wandering wind
 Of the golden summer eyes--
  Whence is the thrilling magic
  read more 
 The wind, the wandering wind
 Of the golden summer eyes--
  Whence is the thrilling magic
   Of its tunes amongst the leaves?
    Oh, is it from the waters,
     Or from the long, tall grass?
      Or is it from the hollow rocks
       Through which its breathings pass? 
 The wind is awake, pretty leave, pretty leaves,
 Heed not what he says, he deceives, he deceives;
  read more 
 The wind is awake, pretty leave, pretty leaves,
 Heed not what he says, he deceives, he deceives;
  Over and over
   To the lowly clover
    He has lisped the same love (and forgotten it, too).
     He will be lisping and pledging to you. 
 It's a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds' cries;
 I never hear the west wind but tears read more 
 It's a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds' cries;
 I never hear the west wind but tears are in my eyes.
  For it comes from the west lands, the old brown hills,
   And April's in the West wind, and daffodils.