LAST night I heard the winds rejoice In Sussex on the downs, And hearkened to the friendly voice Of one who loves not towns. I sat with open eyes and saw The dawn tear wide the sky and draw The smoke from red-tiled cottages, The mist from out the trees. The harvest and the smoke, the tang Of spindrift from the sea, Was sweet to breathe in the wind that sang Over the downs to me. I closed my eyes and they shouldered there Above Greatham fields and the chalk road bare With the heather a purple flame between, Just as it ought to be. Last night I heard the wind rejoice, I heard him on the downs, Though I was far from his friendly voice, Mewed up in the streets of towns. |