War’s Embers, and Other Verses by Ivor Gurney
IN A WARD ( To J. W. H. )
O wind that tosses free The children’s hair; Scatters the blossom of Apple and pear; Blow in my heart, touch me, Gladden me here.
You have seen so many things— Blow in and tell Tales of white sand and golden ’Gainst the sea swell. Bring me fine meadow-thoughts, Fresh orchard smell.
Here we must stare through glass To see the sun— Stare at flat ceilings white Till day is done: While you, sunshine, starshine, May out and run.
Blow in and bring us all Dear home-delight— Green face of the Spring earth, Blue of deep night. Blot each of our faces From the others’ sight.