Ivor Gurney Poems
My Heart Makes Songs On Lonely Roads
My heart makes songs on lonely roads
To comfort me while you're away,
And strives with lovely sounding words
Its crowded tenderness to say.
Glimmering against the forward dark,
Your face I see with pride, with pain
So that one time I did desire
Never to see that face again.
But I am glad that Love has come
To bind me fast and try my worth;
For Love's a powerful Lord and gives
His friends dominion over the earth.
I would hope for the children of West Ham
Wooden-frame houses, square with some-sort stuff
Crammed in to keep the wind away that's rough,
And rain, in summer cool, in cold comfortable enough.
Easily destroyed — and pretty enough, and yet tough
Instead of brick and mortar tiled houses of no
Special appearance or attractive show.
Not crowded together, but with a plot of land
Where one might play and dig, and use spade or the hand