Notus is the Southern Wind, cloudy, moiſt, warm, and ſickly, which Hieronimus cals the butler of the rains. Ovid deſcribes it thus.
Out flies South-wind, with dropping wings, who ſhrowds
His fearful aſpect in the pitchie clouds,
His white Haire ſtream's, his Beard big-ſwoln with ſhowres;
Miſts binde his Brows, rain from his Boſome powres.
But Boreas is contrary to Notus, and is the Northern Wind, fierce, and roaring, and diſcuſſing clouds, makes the Aire ſerene, and binds the Water with Froſt. Him doth Ovid thus bring in ſpeaking of himſelf.
Force me befits: with this thick clouds I drive;
Toſs the blew Billows, knotty Okes up-rive;
Congeal ſoft Snow, and beat the Earth with haile:
When I my brethren in the Aire aſſaile,
(For thats our Field) we meet with ſuch a ſhock.
That thundring Skies with our encounters rock
And cloud-ſtruck lightning flaſhes from on high,
When through the Crannies of the Earth I flie,
And force her in her hollow Caves, I make
The Ghoſts to tremble, and the ground to quake.
And Zephyrus, which is the Weſtern Wind, is moſt ſoft, blowing from the Weſt with a pleaſant gale, it is cold and moiſt, removing the effects of Winter, bringing forth Branches, and Flowers. To this Eurus is contrary, which is the Eaſtern wind, and is called Apeliotes; it is wateriſh, cloudy, and ravenous. Of theſe two Ovid ſings thus:
<poem style="padding-left:2em;">To Perſis and Sabea, Eurus flies; Whoſe gums perfume the bluſhing Mornes up-riſe: Next to the Evening, and the Coaſt that glows With ſetting Phoebus, flowry Zeph'rus blows: