Out of us all That make rhymes Will you choose Sometimes - As the winds use A crack in a wall Or a drain,
Their joy or their pain To whistle through - Choose me,
You English words?
I know you:
You are light as dreams,
Tough as oak,
Precious as gold,
As poppies and corn,
Or an old cloak:
Sweet as our birds To the ear,
As the burnet rose In the heat Of Midsummer:
Strange as the races Of dead and unborn:
Strange and sweet Equally,
And familiar,
To the eye,
As the dearest faces That a man knows,
And as lost homes are:
But though older far Than oldest yew, - As our hills are, old, - Worn new Again and again:
Young as our streams After rain:
And as dear As the earth which you prove That we love.
Make me content With some sweetness From Wales Whose nightingales Have no wings, - From Wiltshire and Kent And Herefordshire, - And the villages there, - From the names, and the things No less.
Let me sometimes dance With you,
Or climb Or stand perchance In ecstasy,
Fixed and free In a rhyme,
As poets do.
