Ypres—Minsterworth

Thick lie in Gloucester orchards now
Apples the Severn wind
With rough play tore from the tossing
Branches, and left behind
Leaves strewn on pastures, blown in hedges,
And by the roadway lined.

And I lie leagues on leagues afar
To think how that wind made
Great shoutings in the wide chimney,
A noise of cannonade--
Of how the proud elms by the signpost
The tempest’s will obeyed--

To think how in some German prison
A boy lies with whom
I might have taken joy full-hearted
Hearing the great boom
Of Autumn, watching the fire, talking
Of books in the half gloom.

O wind of Ypres and of Severn
Riot there also, and tell
Of comrades safe returned, home-keeping
Music and Autumn smell.
Comfort blow him and friendly greeting,
Hearten him, wish him well!