in memoriam: ivor gurney - ian venables lyrics
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these severn meadows knew
he would not come
to tread their little paths again
a whisper, secret as the dew
fell from the trembling lips of men
“an english singer’s dumb”
but still the river glides his madrigals
their cadences of richest tudor sound:
in framilode, a winter blackbird calls
daffodils from frozen ground
and gloucester tower
that certainty of stone and power
has heard once more
his timeless music soar
his young heart rise
triumphantly to cotswold skies
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