Writing from the front lines, the speaker turns his thoughts to modest, beloved pieces of home: red roofs, hayricks touched with early gold, orchards sheltered by thick hedges. He asks these images to visit him in dreams as a comfort through the night. Around him, soldiers keep watch through broken walls and ragged roofs, enduring ruin so that those peaceful places can stay their own and remain free. The affection here is deliberately humble—not grand ideals, but ordinary sights and textures that hold a sense of belonging. The mood is tender and homesick, with a quiet ache underneath. Even among shattered buildings, the speaker clings to the image of the Severn falling from the Welsh hills, as if that landscape makes the hardship bearable and the fight worthwhile.
From Omiecourt — Summary
O small dear things for which we fight-- Red roofs, ricks crowned with early gold, Orchards that hedges thick enfold-- O visit us in dreams to-night! Who watch the stars through broken walls And ragged roofs, that you may be Still kept our own and proudly free While Severn from the Welsh height falls.