To Victory

Return to greet me, colours that were my joy, Not in the woeful crimson of men slain, But shining as a garden; come with the streaming Banners of dawn and sundown after rain. I want to fill my gaze with blue and silver, Radiance through living roses, spires of green Rising in young-limbed copse and lovely wood, Where the hueless wind passes and cries unseen. I am not sad; only I long for lustre, -- Tired of the greys and browns and the leafless ash. I would have hours that move like a glitter of dancers Far from the angry guns that boom and flash. Return, musical, gay with blossom and fleetness, Days when my sight shall be clear and my heart rejoice; Come from the sea with breadth of approaching brightness, When the blithe wind laughs on the hills with uplifted voice.