The wind has teeth, the wind has claws.

All the wind's wolves through woods are loose,

The wild wind's falconry aloft.

Shrill underfoot the grassblade shrews,

At gallop, clumped, and down the croft

Bestrid by shadows, beaten, tossed;

It seems a scythe, it seems a rod.

The howl is up at the howl's accost;