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.

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