249. To the Western Wind

Robert Herrick. 1591-1674

SWEET western wind, whose luck it is,
  Made rival with the air,
To give Perenna's lip a kiss,
  And fan her wanton hair:

Bring me but one, I'll promise thee,
  Instead of common showers,
Thy wings shall be embalm'd by me,
  And all beset with flowers.

The Oxford Book of English Verse, HTML edition