The Immortal Hour

I have forgotten where the pleasure lay
In resting idle in the summer weather,
Waiting on Beauty’s power my spirit to sway,
Since Life has taken me and flung me hither;

Here where gray day to day goes dully on,
So evenly, so grayly that the heart
Not notices nor cares that Time is gone
That might be jewelled bright and set apart.

And yet, for all this weight, there stirs in me
Such music of Joy when some perceivéd flower
Breaks irresistible this crust, this lethargy,
I burn and hunger for that immortal hour

When Peace shall bring me first to my own home,
To my own hills; I’ll climb and vision afar
Great cloud-fleets line on line up Severn come,
Where winds of Joy shall cleanse the stain of war.