THERE is a wind in Cornwall that I know From any other wind, because it smells Of the warm honey breath of heather-bells And of the sea's salt; and these meet and flow With such sweet savour in such sharpness met That the astonished sense in ecstasy Tastes the ripe earth and the unvintaged sea. Wind out of Cornwall, wind, if I forget: Not in the tunnelled streets where scarce men breathe The air they live by, but whatever seas Blossom in foam, wherever merchant bees Volubly traffic upon any heath: If I forget, shame me! or if I find A wind in England like my Cornish wind. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE DEATH OF JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE by FITZ-GREENE HALLECK THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 101. THE ONE HOPE by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI PAX BRITANNICA by ALFRED AUSTIN TO A DEAD JOURNALIST by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THERE'LL NEVER BE PEACE TILL JAMIE COMES HAME by ROBERT BURNS |