It's a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds' cries.

It's a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds' cries.

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.

The imperial ensign, which, full high advanced, / Shone like a meteor, streaming to the wind.

If it's 45 and cloudy, the wind doesn't dry it as fast as you'd like. We need some warm days. But it could have been worse. If we would have had that two inches fall at once or if we would have had a downpour or two to go with the rain we had this weekend, we'd be looking at some real problems.

Better one byrde in hand than ten in the wood.