O White Wind, numbing the World

O white wind, numbing the world
to a mask of suffering hate !
and thy goblin pipes have skirl'd
all night, at my broken gate.

O heart, be hidden and kept
in a half-light coloured and warm,
and call on thy dreams that have slept
to charm thee from hate and harm.

They are gone, for I might not keep ;
my sense is beaten and dinn'd ;
there is no peace but a grey sleep
in the pause of the wind.