Where The Four Winds Meet





There are songs of the north and songs of the south,

And songs of the east and west;

But the songs of the place where the four winds meet

Are the ones that we love the best.



And where do the four winds meet? you ask.

The answer is ready at hand--

Wherever our dear ones chance to be

By air, or by sea, or land.



So the sailor, keeping his midnight watch

'Mid icicles, snow, and sleet,

Can think of a village near Portsmouth town

As the place where the four winds meet.



And mother, perhaps, and sweetheart true

Pray hard for the North Sea Fleet,

And harder still for the boy who's gone

To his place, where the four winds meet.



And the man on guard at the firing-step,

'Mid star-shells shimmering down,

Can think of his home--where the four winds meet

In some sheltered English town.



And thoughts may fly to the distant trench,

Whatever its name or street,

For Somewhere in France seems far less vague

If we add, where the four winds meet.



And the pilot steers thro' the trackless waste

While the engines throb and beat,

Flouting surprise, with the army's eyes

High up where the four winds meet.



And to those who mourn comes a cheering cry,

Which the angels in heaven repeat,

Grieve not, brave hearts; we await you here--

Here, where the four winds meet.



There are songs of the north and songs of the south,

The east and the west complete;

But here is a song of the place we love,

Which is called, Where the four winds meet.



GEOFFREY DALRYMPLE NASH.



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