Walk Alone - Hidden Tribe

O wild west wind thou breath of autumn’s being

Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead

Are driven like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing

Yellow and black and pale and hectic red

Pestilence-stricken multitudes o thou

Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed

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 odors plain and hill

Wild spirit which art moving everywhere

Destroyer and preserver hear oh hear