"Ode to the West Wind - I" (2) - Percy Bysshe Shelley

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The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, - Each like a corpse within its grave, until - Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow - Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill - (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air) - With living hues and odours plain and hill: - Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere; - Destroyer and preserver; hear, oh hear!

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