Poems (Tynan)/The Gray Mornings
THE GRAY MORNINGS
The gray mornings I well remember, The gray mountains new-waked from slumber,The gray dews on the trees and hedges, And in gray distance the gray sea's edges.
Cool it was, sweet beyond telling, The gray-green hay in the pastures smelling, The gray meadows wet as a river, The gray dew where the grass-blades quiver.
Gray gulls and the sea-gray swallow Take the track that my heart would follow. Home from the heat and the cruel weather, That I and my heart might fare together!
Purple-gray are the wild hills showing, Silver-gray is the west wind blowing. O gray fields and gray hills behind you,Would my feet might follow and find you!