Siegfried Sassoon (1886–1967). The Old Huntsman and Other Poems. 1918.

63. South Wind

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.