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 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.