The wind is rattling chimney pots,
Sends litter skittering down the street,
Turns children round like spinning tops
And finally lifts them off their feet,

Blasts down the alley where those walking
Like tenpins are knocked down flat,
Sets the neighb’rhood curs to barking
And puts the wind up granny’s cat.

Steals caps and bonnets from the nurses
Pushing prams around the green,
And from their lips whisks muttered curses
As they watch their headwear flee.

The crossing sweep, broom busy, despairs
His work undone by wind-blown leaves
That dance and rustle down the stone stairs
To the maid’s room ‘neath the street.

It rattles roof-tiles, shakes the glass panes,
Billows skirts, steals unpinned hats,
Pulls at scarves and spins the church vane,
Buffets birds and scatters cats!