"Winter is over, can spring be far behind?" From whom? What is the original text of his poem?

When winter comes, spring will always come at once "is the poem ode to the west wind in Shelley's ode to the west wind, the original text is as follows: Oh, the wild west wind, the breath of life in autumn! You are invisible, but the dead leaves are swept away by you, like a ghost meeting a wizard and fleeing from yellow, black, gray and red like a group of west winds with tuberculosis. Oh, you drove the seeds to the dark winter bed, where they lay like a dead hole in the grave, cold, deep and low. Free spirit, you travel everywhere; Destroyer and protector listen, you listen! When the sky is in chaos, clouds are torn apart from the tangled branches of the sky and the ocean like dead leaves of the earth. Be the messenger of rain and electricity. They fall on the blue wave of your majestic spirit, like the fluttering hair of a crazy woman flashing, reaching the zenith of nine from the farthest and most condensed edge of the sky, and the curly hair is swaying around for a thunderstorm. For a dying year, you sang Corona Hector, and this dense night will become the dome of its huge grave, which is full of the condensation of your strength; That's your innocent breath, from which black rain, hail and fire will come to generate. Oh, listen! Third, you awakened the blue Mediterranean, which was in a coma for a whole summer and was hypnotized into dreams by the dancing of clear water. It was near a pumice island in Baya Bay. It dreamed that ancient palaces and castles trembled in the waves of water and sky, and they were all covered with moss and flowers. That smell is really charming! Oh, in order to make way for you, the turbulent waves of the Atlantic split themselves in two directions, while the flowers and muddy forests in the depths of the ocean, though sparsely covered with branches and leaves, have no energy; Hearing your voice, they turn blue with fear and contract automatically. Oh, listen! Hey, if I am a dead leaf floating with you, if I am a cloud that can fly with you, a wave that breathes with your strength, if I have your pulse, I just don't have your freedom, oh, an uncontrollable life! If I could dance like Feng Ling when I was a teenager, become your partner and roam the sky (because, at that time, chasing you to the sky didn't seem like a dream), I wouldn't be so anxious to pray with you now. Oh, lift me up like waves, leaves and clouds! I fell on the thorns of life, I was bleeding! This kind of life, suppressed by the heavy shackles of years, is as proud, agile and unruly as you. Think of me as your harp, like a forest. What does it matter if my leaves fall off? The music inspired by your huge ensemble will dye the forest and my late autumn. Although sad and sweet, I hope you can give me a violent spirit! Brave, let us become one! Please blow my dead thoughts to the world and let them give birth to new life like dead leaves! Oh, please listen to this spell-like poem, and spread my words to the world like ashes and sparks from the still burning fire! Let the horn of prophecy awaken the sleeping earth through my lips! Winter is coming, west wind, how can spring be far away?