Once more

Did you ever lie low
In the depth of the plain?
In the lee of a swell that lifts
Like a low-lying island out of the sea?
When the blue joint shakes
As an army of spears
When each flashing wave breaks
In turn overhead
And walls in the door of your ears?

If you have
You have heard
In the midst of the roar
The note of a lone grey bird
Blown slantwise by overhead
And he swiftly sped
To his southland haven
Once more

Oh the music abroad in the air
With the autumn wind sweeping
His hand on the grass where
The tiniest blade is a stir
Keeping voice in the dim wide choir
Of the infinite song
The refrain
The wild, sad wail of the plain