The poem
IT'S a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds' cries; I never hear the west wind but tears are in my eyes. For it comes from the west lands, the old brown hills. And April's in the west wind, and daffodils.
It's a fine land, the west land, for hearts as tired as mine, Apple orchards blossom there, and the air's like wine. There is cool green grass there, where men may lie at rest, And the thrushes are in song there, fluting from the nest.
"Will ye not come home brother? ye have been long away, It's April, and blossom time, and white is the may; And bright is the sun brother, and warm is the rain,-- Will ye not come home, brother, home to us again?
"The young corn is green, brother, where the rabbits run. It's blue sky, and white clouds, and warm rain and sun. It's song to a man's soul, brother, fire to a man's brain, To hear the wild bees and see the merry spring again.
"Larks are singing in the west, brother, above the green wheat, So will ye not come home, brother, and rest your tired feet? I've a balm for bruised hearts, brother, sleep for aching eyes," Says the warm wind, the west wind, full of birds' cries.
It's the white road westwards is the road I must tread To the green grass, the cool grass, and rest for heart and head, To the violets, and the warm hearts, and the thrushes' song, In the fine land, the west land, the land where I belong.
I had this poem in school. It has a brilliant sense of nostalgia. It has a kind of sublimity which is generally very hard to find in english poetry. Its what I feel a poem should be - simple with no references to mythology and with no horrible ornate language (can never tolerate that). From the heart, it certainly touches mine.
I was looking up the weather forcast for the Plymouth area (which is where I live) today, and part of the forecast showed there would be a westerly wind. My mother who died in 2004 aged 86 used to recite this poem (amongst many others ) to me and the rest of the family , normally on long journeys, throughout her life. She really loved it and knew it by heart. Until today, I thought it was silly to cry because of a…
Read the whole commentI was looking up the weather forcast for the Plymouth area (which is where I live) today, and part of the forecast showed there would be a westerly wind. My mother who died in 2004 aged 86 used to recite this poem (amongst many others ) to me and the rest of the family , normally on long journeys, throughout her life. She really loved it and knew it by heart. Until today, I thought it was silly to cry because of a wind, but I seemed to hear her voice & it made me cry . It also inspired me to research the poem. Hence this comment on your site. My mother left school when she was 14 but like many of her contemporaries loved the English language ~ especially poetry. I would commend learning by heart to any young people who may read this.
Like the first person who commented, the West Wind was one of my mother's favourite poems and she knew it by heart. She died at least 10 years ago. i also was listening to the weather forecast and the west wind was mentioned. I tried to find the poems amongst my books but failed and so turned to the internet. Like the second person, I find the poem full of nostalgia and it has never left my mind
I was in tears remembering how my mother loved to recite this poem - she died in 1987 at age 90. What a surprise to read that there are others remembering and feeling the same way. Go Masefield!