West Wind In Winter,Alice Meynell was an English poet who, following her marriage to a Catholic newspaper publisher and editor, followed in his line of work becoming a successful editor and critic in her own right. She came late to the world of published poetry; she was aged 28 before her first collection was seen.
It was called Preludes and attracted the favourable attention of other writers such as John Ruskin but was barely noticed by the reading public. Later in her life Alice served as vice-president of the Women Writers’ Suffrage League, a much less militant branch of the suffragette movement that was gathering pace in the early years of the 20th century.
West Wind In Winter by Alice Meynell
Another day awakes. And who –
Changing the world–is this?
He comes at whiles, the Winter through,
West Wind! I would not miss
His sudden tryst: the long, the new
Surprises of his kiss.
Vigilant, I make haste to close
With him who comes my way.
I go to meet him as he goes;
I know his note, his lay,
His colour and his morning rose;
And I confess his day.
My window waits; at dawn I hark
His call; at morn I meet
His haste around the tossing park
And down the softened street;
The gentler light is his; the dark,
The grey–he turns it sweet.
So too, so too, do I confess
My poet when he sings.
He rushes on my mortal guess
With his immortal things.
I feel, I know him. On I press –
He finds me ‘twixt his wings.
