The level of the Atlantic Ocean breaks itself into a different perspective for the west wind.The poet feels that though the sea is big and huge it’s only subordinate to the west wind moreover if the sea gets waves it is only because of the West wind’s superpowers.Shelley tells us about the peculiar exploits of the West wind.
Thou dirge Of the dying year, to which this closing night Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre, Vaulted with all thy congregated might Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere Black rain, and fire, and hail will burst: oh hear!
IIIThou who didst waken from his summer dreams The blue Mediterranean, where he lay, Lull’d by the coil of his crystalline streams, Beside a pumice isle in Baiae’s bay, And saw in sleep old palaces and towers Quivering within the wave’s intenser day, All overgrown with azure moss and flowers So sweet, the sense faints picturing them!
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 odours plain and hill: Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere; Destroyer and preserver; hear, oh hear!
IIThou on whose stream, mid the steep sky’s commotion, Loose clouds like earth’s decaying leaves are shed, Shook from the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean, Angels of rain and lightning: there are spread On the blue surface of thine aëry surge, Like the bright hair uplifted from the head Of some fierce Maenad, even from the dim verge Of the horizon to the zenith’s height, The locks of the approaching storm.
Shelley speaks to the west wind for four times in the first stanza.
In general winter season portrays early season especially in European countries because during that time they cannot come out and enjoys with nature but there is something different than the poet elevates the wind as the “breath of autumn“.
Eventually, a tree has both fresh and dead leaves but here the wind sweeps away only the dead leaves.
Generally, a dead leaf looks in black or brown in color but here very strangely those dead leaves are in yellow, pale and hectic red color.
The wind is described as a ‘drige’ a mournful song, to mark the years which have got over.
Thus, the poet has some kind of an unexpressed love towards wind so he wants the wind to hear him again.