WHERE have you been, South Wind, this May-day morning, -- With larks aloft, or skimming with the swallow, Or with blackbirds in a green, sun-glinted thicket? Oh, I heard you like a tyrant in the valley; Your ruffian haste shook the young, blossoming orchards; You clapped rude hands, hallooing round the chimney, And white your pennons streamed along the river. You have robbed the bee, South Wind, in your adventure, Blustering with gentle flowers; but I forgave you When you stole to me shyly with scent of hawthorn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SECRET LOVE; SONG by JOHN CLARE TO AN UNBORN PAUPER CHILD by THOMAS HARDY TO A GIRL by ASCLEPIADES OF SAMOS NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 11 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE WANDERER: 4. IN SWITZERLAND: A QUIET MOMEMENT by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |