“The West Wind” It’s​ ​a​ ​warm​ ​wind,​ ​the​ ​west​ ​wind,​ ​full​ ​of​ ​birds’​ ​cries;
I​ ​never​ ​hear​ ​the​ ​west​ ​wind​ ​but​ ​tears​ ​are​ ​in​ ​my​ ​eyes.

For​ ​it​ ​comes​ ​from​ ​the​ ​west​ ​lands,​ ​the​ ​old​ ​brown​ ​hills,
And​ ​April’s​ ​in​ ​the​ ​west​ ​wind,​ ​and​ ​daffodils.

It’s​ ​a​ ​fine​ ​land,​ ​the​ ​west​ ​land,​ ​for​ ​hearts​ ​as​ ​tired​ ​as​ ​mine;
Apple​ ​orchards​ ​blossom​ ​there,​ ​and​ ​the​ ​airs’​ ​like​ ​wine.

There​ ​is​ ​cool​ ​green​ ​grass​ ​there​ ​where​ ​men​ ​may​ ​lie​ ​at​ ​rest;
And​ ​the​ ​thrushes​ ​are​ ​in​ ​song​ ​there,​ ​fluting​ ​from​ ​their​ ​nest…
This poem​ ​is​ ​written​ ​in ?
Tercets
Couplets
Cinquains
Quatrains