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West Wind, The

Rating: 2.8

Beneath the forest's skirts I rest,
Whose branching pines rise dark and high,
And hear the breezes of the West
Among the threaded foliage sigh.

Sweet Zephyr! why that sound of wo?
Is not thy home among the flowers?
Do not the bright June roses blow,
To meet thy kiss at morning hours?

And lo! thy glorious realm outspread--
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Natalie Bryant 29 March 2009

My friend wants to write poems like this when she grows up.

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