So, there we are, looking for songs or poems about the four winds. The North wind is easy, for it doth blow/ and what will poor robin do then, poor thing? The South wind, well, Blow the wind southerly wraps that up (and, yes, there is a faint Kathleen Ferrier-eque lilt in my head as I type the title). But what of the West wind? Nothing. We scratched our collective head, until a search turned up this beauty:
‘Westron wynde, when wilt thou blow,
The small raine down can raine.
Cryst, if my love were in my armes
And I in my bedde again!’
There’s a backstory to it, but it surprised me as I knew the last three lines, but with a different first line (which I can’t now remember). But that anonymous verse is a perfect fit for our West wind.