Alice Meynell
Changeless

A poet of one mood in all my lays,

Ranging all life to sing one only love,

Like a west wind across the world I move,

Sweeping my harp of floods mine own wild ways.

The countries change, but not the westwind days

Which are my songs. My soft skies shine above,

And on all seas the colors of a dove,

And on all fields a flash of silver greys.

I make the whole world answer to my art

And sweet monotonous meanings. In your ears

I change not ever, bearing, for my part,

One thought that is the treasure of my years,

A small cloud full of rain upon my heart

And in mine arms, clasped, like a child in tears.