In stanza 4 of the poem, Shelley regrets that while the
dead leaves on earth, the black clouds in the sky, and the panting waves of the Atlantic
receive the ennobling thrust of the mighty wind, he still lies low heavily burdened with
the load of life unable to get in touch with the wind.
The
poet recalls how strong and free he was in his boyhood when he could run with the wind
to outspeed it in the sky.He was then only less mighty than the 'uncontrollable' wind.
Now the huge burden of existence has tied him to the ground, like Prometheus in chains
in Greek mythology.
'I fall upon the thorns of life! I
bleed!'--thus the poet exclaims in anguish bordering on self-pity. It is the
revitalizing thrust of the West Wind that alone can liberate the poet from the
bondage.
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