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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ab0e722 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66362 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66362) diff --git a/old/66362-0.txt b/old/66362-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index b843856..0000000 --- a/old/66362-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2008 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Gloucestershire Friends: Poems From a -German Prison Camp, by F. W. Harvey - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Gloucestershire Friends: Poems From a German Prison Camp - -Author: F. W. Harvey - -Contributor: Rev. Bishop Frodsham - -Release Date: September 22, 2021 [eBook #66362] - -Language: English - -Produced by: D A Alexander, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by - University of California libraries) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GLOUCESTERSHIRE FRIENDS: -POEMS FROM A GERMAN PRISON CAMP *** - - - - - -Gloucestershire Friends - -[Illustration] - - - - -BY THE SAME AUTHOR - -_Fourth Impression_ - -A Gloucestershire Lad at Home and Abroad - -Cloth 2_s._ net; paper 1_s._ 6_d._ net. - - - “The secret of Mr. Harvey’s power is that he says what other English - lads in Flanders want to say and cannot.... This modest little - volume has real charm, and not a little depth of thought and beauty. - It contains far more real poetry than many a volume ten times its - length.”--Bishop Frodsham in _The Saturday Review_. - - “A poet of power and a subtle distinction.... This little collection - of his poems, which has a Preface by his Commanding Officer, will - give him a high place in the Sidneian company of soldier-poets.”--E. - B. O. in _The Morning Post_. - - -London: Sidgwick & Jackson, Ltd. - - - - - Gloucestershire Friends: - - Poems from a German Prison Camp - - by - F. W. Harvey - - Author of - “A Gloucestershire Lad at Home and Abroad” - - [Illustration] - - Introduction by the Right Rev. BISHOP FRODSHAM - Canon Residentiary of Gloucester - - - London: Sidgwick & Jackson, Ltd. - 3 Adam Street, Adelphi, W.C.2. 1917 - - - - - _First published in 1917_ - - _All rights reserved_ - - - - - TO - THE BEST OF ALL - GLOUCESTERSHIRE FRIENDS - MY MOTHER - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - INTRODUCTION, BY BISHOP FRODSHAM 11 - - CLOUD MESSENGERS 13 - - LONELINESS 14 - - AUTUMN IN PRISON 15 - - WHAT WE THINK OF 16 - - PRISONERS 17 - - SONNET, TO ONE KILLED IN ACTION 18 - - THE HATEFUL ROAD 19 - - ENGLISH FLOWERS IN A FOREIGN GARDEN 20 - - THE BOND 21 - - TO YOU--UNSUNG 22 - - A CHRISTMAS WISH 23 - - TO KATHLEEN 24 - - CHRISTMAS IN PRISON 25 - - TO THE OLD YEAR 26 - - BALLADE 27 - - BALLADE 29 - - SOLITARY CONFINEMENT 31 - - A RONDEL OF GLOUCESTERSHIRE 32 - - THE LITTLE ROAD 33 - - SONNET 34 - - ENGLAND, IN MEMORY 35 - - THE DEAD 36 - - THE SLEEPERS 37 - - COMRADES O’ MINE 38 - - TO R. E. K. 39 - - BALLAD OF ARMY PAY 40 - - TO THE DEVIL ON HIS APPALLING DECADENCE 43 - - AT AFTERNOON TEA 44 - - TO THE UNKNOWN NURSE 45 - - THE HORSES 46 - - MOTHER AND SON 47 - - GROWN UPS: - - 1. TIMMY TAYLOR AND THE RATS 48 - - 2. WILLUM ACCOUNTS FOR THE PRICE OF - LAMPREY 50 - - 3. THE OLDEST INHABITANT HEARS FAR - OFF THE DRUMS OF DEATH 51 - - 4. SETH BEMOANS THE OLDEST INHABITANT 52 - - 5. A RIVER, A PIG, AND BRAINS 53 - - 6. MARTHA BAZIN ON MARRIAGE 54 - - CHILDREN: - - 1. LITTLE ABEL GOES TO CHURCH 55 - - 2. DELIGHTS 56 - - 3. THE BOY WITH LITTLE BARE TOES 57 - - THE WIND IN TOWN TREES 58 - - FORM--A STUDY 59 - - VILLANELLE 60 - - KOSSOVO DAY 61 - - A PHILOSOPHY 62 - - CONSOLATOR AFFLICTORUM 63 - - RECOGNITION 64 - - ON OVER BRIDGE AT EVENING 65 - - PASSION 66 - - A COMMON PETITION 67 - - AN ADVENTURE WITH GOD 68 - - THE STRANGER 69 - - THE BUGLER 71 - - - - -INTRODUCTION - -by Bishop Frodsham - - -“Good wine needs no bush.” Those who know and love “A Gloucestershire -Lad” would resent any lengthy attempt to praise the quality of -Lieutenant Harvey’s verses. Some of the poems from a German prison -camp may reach a far higher standard of lyric excellence than any in -the earlier volume. The two ballades on war and “The Bugler” grip one -by the throat. But all the verses have a sweetness and beauty entirely -their own. - -The poems are all short--too short. Lieutenant Harvey sings like the -wild birds of his own dear Gloucestershire because he cannot help doing -so. He stops short--as they do--and like them begins again. What can -we do but take what he gives us, wondering that he can write so well, -mewed as he is in a cage--and such a cage! An agony of inarticulate -longing shrills in a feathered cageling’s song: the man simply and -unaffectedly lays bare his heart, his love, his faith, his hope, his -sense of loneliness, of ineffectiveness, of baffled purposes and -incompleted manhood. - -Memory is at once the joy and torment of all who are forced to think. -Memory tears the heart-strings of those who are in captivity. It -makes some hopeless and weak, others bitter and savage, according to -their natures. Beneath all the music of this man’s words there is an -undertone of fierce anger that sweeps him away at times, but is this -not characteristic of many other young Englishmen who laugh so well, -and “woo bright danger for a thrilling kiss”? His memories sweep along -the great gamut of his own tremendous experiences, and yet they never -lose the melodies of home. Perhaps because of the objects of his -heart’s desire he is so kindly withal, so modest, so humorous, and, to -use his own words of another, “so worldly foolish, so divinely wise.” -Herein is the fascination of these verses. - -The manuscript was sent on by the prison authorities of Crefeld without -any obliteration or excision. This must be counted unto them for -literary righteousness. Yet it would be difficult to imagine what the -most stony-hearted German censor could resent in any one of Lieutenant -Harvey’s poems, unless it might be a deep love for England and an -overwhelming desire to be with his love again. - -Many unfortunates who have had dear ones imprisoned at Gütersloh, where -most of these poems were written, and at other centres, are looking -forward eagerly to the publication of this little book. If they expect -to read descriptions of the life of the camp, or reflections upon the -conduct of German gaolers, they will be disappointed. The circumstances -of the case have made such revelations impossible. If they had been -possible, it is still doubtful if they would have been made here. But -it will be strange if such readers do not find better things than they -expected. Transpose any other county of this land for Gloucestershire, -or any other home for the tree-encircled house at Minsterworth, -then they will learn what the best of England’s captive sons are -thinking, and so take heart of grace from the true love-songs of a -Gloucestershire soldier, written first and foremost for his mother. - - - - -GLOUCESTERSHIRE FRIENDS - - - - -CLOUD MESSENGERS - - - You clouds that with the wind your warden - Flying toward the Channel go, - Or ever the frost your fruit shall harden - To hail and sleet and driving snow, - Go seek one sunny old sweet garden-- - An English garden that I know. - - Therein perchance my Mother, straying - Among her dahlias, shall see - Your rainy gems in sunlight swaying - On flower of gold and emerald tree. - Then in her heart feel suddenly - Old love and laughter, like sunshine playing - Through tears of memory. - - - - -LONELINESS - - - Oh where’s the use to write? - What can I tell you, dear? - Just that I want you so - Who are not near. - Just that I miss the lamp whose blessèd light - Was God’s own moon to shine upon my night, - And newly mourn each new day’s lost delight: - Just--oh, it will not ease my pain-- - That I am lonely - Until I see you once again, - You--you only. - - - - -AUTUMN IN PRISON - - - Here where no tree changes, - Here in a prison of pine, - I think how Autumn ranges - The country that is mine. - - There--rust upon the chill breeze-- - The woodland leaf now whirls; - There sway the yellowing birches - Like dainty dancing girls. - - Oh, how the leaves are dancing - With Death at Lassington! - And Death is now enhancing - Beauty I walked upon. - - The roads with leaves are littered, - Yellow, brown, and red. - The homes where robins twittered - Lie ruin; but instead - - Gaunt arms of stretching giants - Stand in the azure air, - Cutting the sky in pattern - So common, yet so fair. - - The heart is kindled by it, - And lifted as with wine, - In Lassington and Highnam-- - The woodlands that were mine. - - - - -WHAT WE THINK OF - - - Walking round our cages like the lions at the Zoo, - We think of things that we have done, and things we mean to do: - Of girls we left behind us, of letters that are due, - Of boating on the river beneath a sky of blue, - Of hills we climbed together--not always for the view. - - Walking round our cages like the lions at the Zoo, - We see the phantom faces of you, and you, and you, - Faces of those we loved or loathed--oh every one we knew! - And deeds we wrought in carelessness for happiness or rue, - And dreams we broke in folly, and seek to build anew,-- - Walking round our cages like the lions at the Zoo. - - - - -PRISONERS - - - Comrades of risk and rigour long ago - Who have done battle under honour’s name, - Hoped (living or shot down) some meed of fame, - And wooed bright Danger for a thrilling kiss,-- - Laugh, oh laugh well, that we have come to this! - - Laugh, oh laugh loud, all ye who long ago - Adventure found in gallant company! - Safe in Stagnation, laugh, laugh bitterly, - While on this filthiest backwater of Time’s flow - Drift we and rot, till something set us free! - - Laugh like old men with senses atrophied, - Heeding no Present, to the Future dead, - Nodding quite foolish by the warm fireside - And seeing no flame, but only in the red - And flickering embers, pictures of the past:-- - Life like a cinder fading black at last. - - - - -SONNET - -(TO ONE KILLED IN ACTION) - - - My undevout yet ardent sacrifice - Did God refuse, knowing how carelessly - And with what curious sensuality - The coloured flames did flicker and arise. - Half boy, half decadent, always my eyes - Sparkle to danger: Oh it was joy to me - To sit with Death gambling desperately - The borrowed Coin of Life. But you, more wise, - Went forth for nothing but to do God’s will: - Went gravely out--well knowing what you did - And hating it--with feet that did not falter - To place your gift upon the highest altar. - Therefore to you this last and finest thrill - Is given--even Death itself, to me forbid. - - - - -THE HATEFUL ROAD - - - Oh pleasant things there be - Without this prison yard: - Fields green, and many a tree - With shadow on the sward, - And drifting clouds that pass - Sailing above the grass. - - All lovely things that be - Beyond this strong abode - Send comfort back to me; - Yea, everything I see - Except the hateful road; - The road that runs so free - With many a dip and rise, - That waves and beckons me - And mocks and calls at me - And will not let me be - Even when I close my eyes. - - - - -ENGLISH FLOWERS IN A FOREIGN GARDEN - - - Snapdragon, sunflower, sweet-pea, - Flowers which fill the heart of me - With so sweet and bitter fancy: - Glowing rose and pensive pansy, - You that pierce me with a blade - Beat from molten memory, - With what art, how tenderly, - You heal the wounds that you have made! - - Thrushes, finches, birds that beat - Magical and thrilling sweet - Little far-off fairy gongs: - Blackbird with your mellow songs, - Valiant robin, thieving sparrows, - Though you wound me as with arrows, - Still with you among these flowers - Surely I find my sweetest hours. - - - - -THE BOND - - - Once, I remember, when we were at home - I had come into church, and waited late, - Ere lastly kneeling to communicate - Alone: and thinking that you would not come. - - Then, with closed eyes (having received the Host) - I prayed for your dear self, and turned to rise; - When lo! beside me like a blessed ghost-- - Nay, a grave sunbeam--_you_! Scarcely my eyes - Could credit it, so softly had you come - Beside me as I thought I walked alone. - - Thus long ago; but now, when fate bereaves - Life of old joys, how often as I’m kneeling - To take the Blessed Sacrifice that weaves - Life’s tangled threads, so broken to man’s seeing, - Into one whole; I have the sudden feeling - That you are by, and look to see a face - Made in fair flesh beside me, and all my being - Thrills with the old sweet wonder and faint fear - As in that sabbath hour--how long ago!-- - When you had crept so lightly to your place. - Then, then, _I know_ - (My heart can always tell) that you are near. - - - - -TO YOU--UNSUNG - -(SONNET) - - - How should I sing you?--you who dwell unseen - Within the darkest chamber of my heart. - What picturesque and inward-turning art - Could shadow forth the image of my queen, - Sweet, world aloof, ineffably serene - Like holy dawn, yet so entirely part - Of what am I, as well a man might start - To paint his breathing, or his red blood’s sheen. - - Nay, seek yourself, who are their truest breath, - In these my songs made for delight of men. - Oh, where they fail, ’tis I that am in blame, - But, where the words loom larger than my pen, - Be sure they ring glad echoes of your name, - And Love that triumphs over Life and Death. - - - - -A CHRISTMAS WISH - - - I cannot give you happiness: - For wishes long have ceased to bring - The Fortune which to page and king - They brought in those good centuries, - When with a quaint and starry wand - Witches turned poor men’s thoughts to gold - And Cinderella’s carriage rolled - Through moonlight into Fairyland. - - I may but _wish_ you happiness: - Not Pleasure’s dusty fruit to find, - But wines of Mirth and Friendship kind, - And Love, to make with you a home. - But may Our Lord whose Son has come - Now heed the wish and make it true, - Even as elves were wont to do - When wishing could bring happiness. - - - - -TO KATHLEEN, AT CHRISTMAS - -(AN ACROSTIC) - - - K ings of the East did bring their gold - A nd jewels unto the cattle fold. - T he angel’s song was heard by men - “H oly! holy! holy!” then. - L ittle and weak in the manger He lay - E ven as you in a cradle to-day; - E ven as you did the Christ-child rest - N estling warm in His mother’s breast. - - GÜTERSLOH, - _December 1916._ - - - - -CHRISTMAS IN PRISON - - - Outside, white snow - And freezing mire. - The heart of the house - Is a blazing fire! - - Even so whatever hags do ride - His outward fortune, withinside - The heart of a man burns Christmastide! - - - - -TO THE OLD YEAR - - - Old year, farewell! - Much have you given which was ill to bear: - Much have taken which was dear, so dear: - Much have you spoken which was ill to hear; - Echoes of speech first uttered deep in hell. - - Pass now like some grey harlot to the tomb! - Yet die in child-birth, and from out your womb - Leap the young year unsullied! He perchance - Shall bring to man his lost inheritance. - - - - -BALLADE - -No. 1 - - - Bodies of comrade soldiers gleaming white - Within the mill-pool where you float and dive - And lounge around part-clothed or naked quite; - Beautiful shining forms of men alive, - O living lutes stringed with the senses five - For Love’s sweet fingers; seeing Fate afar, - My very soul with Death for you must strive; - Because of you I loathe the name of War. - - But O you piteous corpses yellow-black, - Rotting unburied in the sunbeam’s light, - With teeth laid bare by yellow lips curled back - Most hideously; whose tortured souls took flight - Leaving your limbs, all mangled by the fight, - In attitudes of horror fouler far - Than dreams which haunt a devil’s brain at night; - Because of you I loathe the name of War. - - Mothers and maids who loved you, and the wives - Bereft of your sweet presences; yea, all - Who knew you beautiful; and those small lives - Made of that knowledge; O, and you who call - For life (but vainly now) from that dark hall - Where wait the Unborn, and the loves which are - In future generations to befall; - Because of you I loathe the name of War. - - - L’ENVOI - - Prince Jesu, hanging stark upon a tree - Crucified as the malefactors are - That man and man henceforth should brothers be; - Because of you I loathe the name of War. - - - - -BALLADE - -No. 2 - - - You dawns, whose loveliness I have not missed, - Making so delicate background for the larches - Melting the hills to softest amethyst; - O beauty never absent from our marches; - Passion of heaven shot golden through the arches - Of woods, or filtered softly from a star, - Nature’s wild love that never cloys or parches; - Because of you I love the name of War. - - I have seen dawn and sunset, night and morning, - I have tramped tired and dusty to a tune - Of singing voices tired as I, but scorning - To yield up gaiety to sweltering June. - O comrades marching under blazing noon - Who told me tales in taverns near and far, - And sang and slept with me beneath the moon; - Because of you I love the name of War. - - But you most dear companions Life and Death, - Whose friendship I had never valued well - Until that Battle blew with fiery breath - Over the earth his message terrible; - Crying aloud the things Peace could not tell, - Calling up ancient custom to the bar - Of God, to plead its cause with Heaven and Hell ... - Because of you I love the name of War. - - - L’ENVOI - - Prince Jesu, who did speak the amazing word - Loud, trumpet-clear, flame-flashing like a star - Which falls: “Not peace I bring you, but the sword!” - Because of you I love the name of War. - - - - -SOLITARY CONFINEMENT - - - No mortal comes to visit me to-day, - Only the gay and early-rising Sun - Who strolled in nonchalantly, just to say, - “Good morrow, and despair not, foolish one!” - But like the tune which comforted King Saul - Sounds in my brain that sunny madrigal. - - Anon the playful Wind arises, swells - Into vague music, and departing, leaves - A sense of blue bare heights and tinkling bells, - Audible silences which sound achieves - Through music, mountain streams, and hinted heather, - And drowsy flocks drifting in golden weather. - - Lastly, as to my bed I turn for rest. - Comes Lady Moon herself on silver feet - To sit with one white arm across my breast, - Talking of elves and haunts where they do meet. - No mortal comes to see me, yet I say - “Oh, I have had fine visitors to-day!” - - DOUAI, - _August 20th, 1916_. - - - - -A RONDEL OF GLOUCESTERSHIRE - - - Big glory mellowing on the mellowing hills, - And in the little valleys, thatch and dreams, - Wrought by the manifold and vagrant wills - Of sun and ripening rain and wind; so gleams - My country, that great magic cup which spills - Into my mind a thousand thousand streams - Of glory mellowing on the mellowing hills - And in the little valleys, thatch and dreams. - - O you dear heights of blue no ploughman tills, - O valleys where the curling mist upsteams - White over fields of trembling daffodils, - And you old dusty little water-mills, - Through all my life, for joy of you, sweet thrills - Shook me, and in my death at last there beams - Big glory mellowing on the mellowing hills - And in the little valleys, thatch and dreams. - - - - -THE LITTLE ROAD - - - I will not take the great road that goes so proud and high, - Like the march of Roman legions that made it long ago; - But I will choose another way, a little road I know. - There no poor tramp goes limping, nor rich poor men drive by, - Nor ever crowding cattle, or sheep in dusty throng - Before their beating drovers drift cruelly along: - But only birds and free things, and ever in my ear - Sound of the leaves and little tongues of water talking near. - - The great roads march on boldly, with scarce a curve or bend, - From some huge smoky Nothing, to Nothing at their end; - They march like Cæsar’s legions, and none may them withstand, - But whence, or whither going, they do not understand, - But oh, the little twisty road, - The sweet and lover’s-kiss-ty road, - The secret winding misty road, - That leads to Fairyland! - - - - -SONNET - - - Christ God, Who died for us, now turn Thy face! - Behold not what men do, lest once again - Thou should’st be crucified, and die of pain. - Look not, O Lord, but only of Thy grace - Do Thou let fall on this accursed place, - Where the poor starve and labour in disdain - Of blinded Greed and all its vulgar train, - A single thread of heaven that we may trace - Some way to Right! And since “great men” stand by, - Heedless of women and men that hunger, Lord, - Give Thou to common men the vision splendid. - Take (and if need be break) them, like a sword; - Take them, and break them till their lives be ended; - Here are a thousand christs ready to die! - - - - -ENGLAND IN MEMORY - -(SONNET) - - - Sweet Motherland, what have I done for thee, - What suffered, what of lasting beauty made? - I who ungratefully and undismayed - Drank from thy breast the milk which nourished me - In childhood, which until my death must be - The life within my veins. Lo, from that shade - Wherein they rest, thy dead and mine, arrayed - In honour’s robes, come clear and plaintively - Voices for ever to my listening ear - Which cry, “Not yet is finished England’s fight! - Still, still must poets strive and martyrs bleed - To overthrow the enemies of Light, - Armies of Dullness, Cruelty, Lust, and Greed!” - Yet what have I done for thee, England dear? - - - - -THE DEAD - - - You never crept into the night - That lurks for all mankind! - Joyous you lived and loved, and leapt - Into that gaping dark, where stept - Our Fathers all, to find - Old honour--jest of fools, yet still the soul of all delight. - - - - -THE SLEEPERS - - - A battered roof where stars went tripping - With silver feet, - A broken roof whence rain came dripping, - Yet rest was sweet. - - A dug-out where the rats ran squeaking - Under the ground, - And out in front the poor dead reeking! - Yet sleep was sound. - - No longer house or dug-out keeping, - Within a cell - Of brown and bloody earth they’re sleeping; - Oh they sleep well. - - Thrice blessed sleep, the balm of sorrow! - Thrice blessed eyes - Sealed up till on some doomsday morrow - The sun arise! - - - - -COMRADES O’ MINE - -(RONDEAU) - - - Comrades o’ mine, that were to me - More than my grief and gaiety, - More than my laughter or my pain: - Comrades, we shall not walk again - The road whereon we went so free-- - The old way of Humanity. - But you are sleeping peacefully - Till the last dawn, heroic slain, - Comrades o’ mine. - - Till the last moon shall fade and flee - You sleep. Oh sleep not dreamlessly, - You whereof only dreams remain, - Come you by dreams into my brain, - Inspire my visions, and still be - Comrades o’ mine! - - - - -TO _R. E. K._ - -(IN MEMORIAM) - - - Dear, rash, warm-hearted friend, - So careless of the end, - So worldly-foolish, so divinely-wise, - Who, caring not one jot - For place, gave all you’d got - To help your lesser fellow-men to rise. - - Swift-footed, fleeter yet - Of heart. Swift to forget - The petty spite that life or men could show you; - Your last long race is won, - But beyond the sound of gun - You laugh and help men onward--if I know you. - - Oh still you laugh, and walk, - And sing and frankly talk - (To angels) of the matters that amused you - In this bitter-sweet of life, - And we who keep its strife, - Take comfort in the thought how God has used you. - - - - -BALLAD OF ARMY PAY - - - In general, if you want a man to do a dangerous job:-- - Say, swim the Channel, climb St. Paul’s, or break into and rob - The Bank of England, why, you find his wages must be higher - Than if you merely wanted him to light the kitchen fire. - But in the British Army, it’s just the other way, - And the maximum of danger means the minimum of pay. - - You put some men inside a trench, and call them infantrie, - And make them face ten kinds of hell, and face it cheerfully; - And live in holes like rats, with other rats, and lice, and toads, - And in their leisure time, assist the R.E.’s with their loads. - Then, when they’ve done it all, you give ’em each a bob a day! - For the maximum of danger means the minimum of pay. - - We won’t run down the A.S.C., nor yet the R.T.O. - They ration and direct us on the way we’ve got to go. - They’re very useful people, and it’s pretty plain to see - We couldn’t do without ’em, nor yet the A.P.C. - But comparing risks and wages,--I think they all will say - That the maximum of danger means the minimum of pay. - - There are men who make munitions--and seventy bob a week; - They never see a lousy trench nor hear a big shell shriek; - And others _sing_ about the war at high-class music-halls - Getting heaps and heaps of money and encores from the stalls. - They “keep the home fires burning” and bright by night and day, - While the maximum of danger means the minimum of pay. - - I wonder if it’s harder to make big shells at a bench, - Than to face the screaming beggars when they’re crumping up a trench; - I wonder if it’s harder to sing in mellow tones - Of danger, than to face it--say, in a wood like Trone’s; - Is discipline skilled labour, or something children play? - Should the maximum of danger mean the minimum of pay? - - - - -TO THE DEVIL ON HIS APPALLING DECADENCE - - - Satan, old friend and enemy of man; - Lord of the shadows and the sins whereby - We wretches glimpse the sun in Virtue’s sky - Guessing at last the wideness of His plan - Who fashioned kid and tiger, slayer and slain, - The paradox of evil, and the pain - Which threshes joy as with a winnowing fan: - - Satan, of old your custom ’twas at least - To throw an apple to the soul you caught - Robbing your orchard. You, before you wrought - Damnation due and marked it with the beast, - Before its eyes were e’en disposed to dangle - Fruitage delicious. And you would not mangle - Nor maul the body of the dear deceased. - - But you were called familiarly “Old Nick”-- - The Devil, yet a gentleman you know! - Relentless--true, yet courteous to a foe. - Man’s soul your traffic was. You would not kick - His bloody entrails flying in the air. - Oh, “Krieg ist Krieg,” we know, and “C’est la guerre!” - But Satan, don’t you feel a trifle sick? - - - - -AT AFTERNOON TEA - -(TRIOLET) - - - We have taken a trench - Near Combles, I see, - Along with the French. - We have taken a trench. - (_Oh, the bodies, the stench!_) - Won’t you have some more tea? - We have taken a trench - Near Combles, I see. - - - - -TO THE UNKNOWN NURSE - - - Moth-like at night you flit or fly - To where the other patients lie; - I hear, as you brush by my door - The flutter of your wings, no more. - - Shall I now call you in and see - The phantom vanish instantly? - Perhaps some sixteen stone or worse, - Suddenly falling through my verse! - - Nay, be you sour, or be you sweet, - I’d see you not. Life’s wisdom is - To keep one’s dreams. Oh never quiz - The lovely lady in the street! - - I knew a man who went large-eyed - And happy, till he bought pince-nez - And saw things as they were. He died - --A pessimist--the other day. - - - - -THE HORSES - - - My father bred great horses, - Chestnut, grey, and brown. - They grazed about the meadows, - And trampled into town. - - They left the homely meadows - And trampled far away, - The great shining horses, - Chestnut, and brown, and grey. - - Gone are the horses - That my father bred. - And who knows whither?... - Or whether starved or fed?... - Gone are the horses, - And my father’s dead. - - - - -MOTHER AND SON - - - “Bow-wow! Bow-wow!” See how he bounds and prances, - “_Wow!_” races off, returns again and dances-- - A little wave of sunshine and brown fur-- - About his old rheumatic mother-cur. - Look how she gives him back his baby bite - Tenderly as a human mother might. - - Now, poor old thing--she gazes quaintly up - To laugh dog-fashion at me. “What a pup, - Master!” she seems to say: then, like a wave, - He’s down on her again--“Oh, master, see, - I’m growing old.... What spirits youngsters have!” - Her old eyes blink as they look up at me. - - - - -_GROWN UPS_ - - - - -1. TIMMY TAYLOR AND THE RATS - - - It was a spell of sultry weather, - There’d been no rain for weeks together, - And little Timmy Taylor, - A mouse of a man, - Walked down the road - With a big milk-can, - Walked softly down the road at night - When the stars were thick and the moon was bright. - - Hard by the road a spring came up - To glimmer in a rare bright cup - Of green-sward, burnt elsewhere quite dry. - To this he came--we won’t ask why-- - Little Timmy Taylor, - The mouse of a man, - With a big milk-can. - - Then, as he turned, so goes the story-- - Came trooping through the moonlight glory - Hundreds and scores of--what do you think? - Rats! rats a-coming down to drink - From granary and barn and stack, - Grey and tawny, brown and black, - Tails cocked up and teeth all gleaming, - Beady eyes light-filled, and seeming - That moony-mad and hunger-fierce. - Little Timmy Taylor, - The mouse of a man, - Dropped the milk-can, - And giving a shriek--’twas fit to pierce - The ear o’ the dead--he ran away, - And the can was found in the road next day. - - - - -2. WILLUM ACCOUNTS FOR THE PRICE OF LAMPREY - - - “Aye, sure, it’s pretty fish, but there’s no sale - Nowadays.” “Why?” “Well, the story that they tell - Is, as the king were very fond on ’em, - And all the fashion ate and paid up well. - And then one day our king--so goes the tale-- - Ate over-hearty-like and throwed ’em up. - So all the fashion with him when he dined - Cut out their orders,--and the price cum down. - And maybe that be true, for still in town - Our council--scheming, likely, to remind - His Majesty of joys he left behind-- - Sends un the very prince o’ lamprey pies - (I’ve seen un many a while in Fisher’s winder) - And so, God willing and if nothing hinder, - Some day he’ll taste again and prices rise.” - - - - -3. THE OLDEST INHABITANT HEARS FAR OFF THE DRUMS OF DEATH - - - Sometimes ’tis far off, and sometimes ’tis nigh, - Such drummerdery noises too they be! - ’Tis odd--oh, I do hope I baint to die - Just as the summer months be coming on, - And buffly chicken out, and bumble-bee: - Though, to be sure, I cannot hear ’em plain - For this drat row as goes a-drumming on, - Just like a little soldier in my brain. - - And oh, I’ve heard we got to go through flame - And water-floods--but maybe ’tisn’t true! - I allus were a-frightened o’ the sea. - And burning fires--oh, it would be a shame - And all the garden ripe, and sky so blue. - Such drummerdery noises, too, they be. - - - - -4. SETH BEMOANS THE OLDEST INHABITANT - - - We heard as we wer passing by the forge: - “’Er’s dead,” said he. - “’Tis Providence’s doing,” so said George. - “He’s allus doing summat,” so I said, - “You see this pig; we kept un aal the year - Fatting un up and priding in un, see, - And spent a yup o’ money--food so dear! - I wish ’twer ’e; - I’d liefer our fat pig had died than she.” - - - - -5. A RIVER, A PIG, AND BRAINS - - - Last fall, to sell his oldest perry, - Old Willum Fry did cross the ferry, - And thur inside of an old sty - ’A seed a leanish pig did lie: - A rakish, active beast ’a was - As ever rooted up the grass: - Eager as bees on making honey - To stuff his self. Bill did decide - To buy un with the cider money - And fat un up for Easter-tide. - - He bought un, but no net ’ad got - To kip thic pig inside the boat. - “The’ll drown wi’ pig and all at ferry!” - Cried one. Said Fry, “Go, bring some perry, - And this old drinking-horn you got, - Lying inside the piggery cot!” - - He poured a goodish swig and soon - --As lazy as a day o’ June-- - Piggy lay boozed, and so did bide - Snoring, while him and Fry were taken - ’Cross Severn: and ’a didn’t waken - Until the boat lay safely tied - Up to a tree on t’other side. - - - - -6. MARTHA BAZIN ON MARRIAGE - - - This is the fourth ’un, Miss, and if so be - As he do die out like the t’other three, - I’ll take another man (if one do ask). - Woman and man apart be like a cask - Without a bung, letting Life’s cider out, - The Almighty made to drink withouten doubt. - I never could abode the thought o’ waste - Whether of Life or cider, fit for taste. - But love him, Miss, you ask?--why, that I can, - And thank the Lord I could love any man. - - - - -_CHILDREN_ - - - - -1. LITTLE ABEL GOES TO CHURCH - - - And this is what he heard - And saw at church: - Oh, a great yellow bird - Upon a perch-- - Quite still upon a perch. - - And then a man in white - Got up and walked to it, - And talked to it - For a long while (he said); - But the yellow bird - (Although it must have heard!) - Never turned its head, - Or did anything at all - But look straight at the wall! - (_A true tale._) - - - - -2. DELIGHTS - - - Small Marjorie - In an apple-tree - Looks down upon the world with glee. - - Her brother Ted, - So he has said, - Loves best to see the chickens fed. - - And little Charlie likes to see - The Thresher working hard, when he - Hums like a dreadful bumble-bee. - - But Ann and Martha sit together - Reading, however gold the weather. - - - - -3. THE BOY WITH LITTLE BARE TOES - - - He ran all down the meadow, that he did, - The boy with the little bare toes. - The flowers they smelt so sweet, so sweet, - And the grass it felt so funny and wet - And the birds sang just like this--“chereep!” - And the willow-trees stood in rows. - “Ho! ho!” - Laughed the boy with the little bare toes. - - Now the trees had no insides--how funny! - Laughed the boy with the little bare toes. - And he put in his hand to find some money - Or honey--yes, that would be best--oh, best! - But what do you think he found, found, found? - Why, six little eggs all round, round, round, - And a mother-bird on the nest, - Oh, yes! - The mother-bird on her nest. - - He laughed, “Ha! ha!” and he laughed, “He! he!” - The boy with the little bare toes. - But the little mother-bird got up from her place - And flew right into his face, ho! ho! - And pecked him on the nose, “Oh! oh!” - Yes, pecked him right on the nose. - “Boo! Boo!” - Cried the boy with the little bare toes. - - - - -THE WIND IN TOWN TREES - - - What is it says the breeze - In London streets to-day - Unto the troubled trees - Whose shadows strew the way, - Whose leaves are all a-flutter? - - “You are wild!” the rascal cries. - The green tree beats its wings - And fills the air with sighs. - “Wild! Wild!” the rascal sings. - “But your feet are in the gutter!” - - Men pass beneath the trees - Walking the pavement grey, - They hear the whisperings tease - And at the word he utters - Their hearts are green and gay. - - Then like the gay, green trees, - They beat proud wings to fly, - But, like the fluttering trees, - Their footprints mark the gutters - Until the beggars die. - - - - -FORM - -(A STUDY) - - - Flower-like and shy, - You stand, sweet mortal, at the river’s brim: - With what unconscious grace - Your limbs to some strange law surrendering - Which lifts you clear of our humanity! - - Now would I sacrifice - Your breathing, warmth, and all the strange romance - Of living, to a moment. Ere you break - The greater thing than you, I would my eyes - Were basilisk to turn you into stone. - So should you be the world’s inheritance. - And souls of unborn men should draw their breath - From mortal you, immortalised in Death. - - - - -VILLANELLE - - - So is thy music unto me, - As the bright moon which tides obey, - As the white moon upon the sea. - - And like a wind that scatters free - The petals of an April day, - So is thy music unto me. - - It falleth light and quietly - And sweet as summer’s petals--nay, - As the white moon upon the sea. - - As moonlight falling silvery - On waves of wild and surging grey, - So is thy music unto me. - - As o’er each white and ebon key - I watch thy silver fingers play, - As the white moon upon the sea, - On headlands of eternity - My soul is hurled, and dashed in spray! - - So is thy music unto me - As the bright moon which tides obey, - As the white moon upon the sea. - - - - -KOSSOVO DAY - - - From this sweet nest of peace and summer blue-- - England in June--a sea-bird’s nest indeed - Guarded of waves, and hid by the sea-weed - From envious hunter’s eye, we send to you - Our flying thoughts and prayers, our treasure too, - Poor though it be to bandage wounds that bleed - For country dear beloved. There the seed - Of homely loves and occupations grew - To wither in the flame of godless might - Kindled by hands of treachery, yet reeking - With blood of friends and neighbours. Serbia, thou - Hast thought us careless and far off; know now - Thy name to us is sudden drums outspeaking - And tortured trumpets crying in the night! - - _Note._--This poem was sent from Crefeld, but was written in England - just before the author left for the front. - - - - -A PHILOSOPHY - - - Only in pages of men’s books I find - Swart villain and fair knight - Closing in fight. - Not piebald is mankind. - The soul is hued to such swift varying - As flying hornet’s sunshine-smitten wing. - - Therefore, dear brother men (where’er ye be), - Who strive for right - With such short sight, - ’Tis wise for little folk like you and me - Neither too much to praise nor yet to blame, - Since in our different ways we’re all the same. - - - - -CONSOLATOR AFFLICTORUM - - - “Must ever I be so - --Yellow and old?” you asked, - “With living overtasked, - Ugly, and racked with pains?” - I answered, “Even so, - Dearest; yet love remains.” - - - - -RECOGNITION - - - By Him Who made you sweet - And set your eyes so wide, - Who suffered us to meet - Despite of woman’s pride, - - And willed that we should know, - Despite of man’s gross sense, - The wonder and dawn-glow - Of Love’s omnipotence,-- - - By all of this I swear, - And by God’s self I vow, - We have met (I know not how) - Loving (I know not where): - - Perhaps in heaven above, - Perhaps in deep perdition. - And so this present love - Is but a recognition. - - - - -ON OVER BRIDGE AT EVENING - - - Faint grow the hills, but yet the night delays - To blot them utterly. Below their ridge - Of shadow lies the city in blue haze. - I watch its lamps awaken, from the bridge - Whereunder, running strongly to the sea, - Water goes fleeting softly in a brown - Wild loveliness. In heaven two or three - Small stars awaken and gaze shyly down.... - - White and alluring runs the dusty road - Into the country, and with yellow eyes - A hastening car comes purring with its load: - Like some great owl it hoots, and then it flies - Past, and is swallowed up in dusk. And, singing, - A country girl with basket homeward wends - --Sweet as the dusty roses that are clinging - Around the cottage where her journey ends. - - Night deepens, and the stars with strengthening rays - Thicken and go upon their lovely ways. - Where are the voices that have vexed us so? - Dear God, how quiet has Thy day become! - The clamorous tongues of Earth are smitten dumb, - Awed with the beauty that Thy work doth show. - - - - -PASSION - - - All life from passion springs. - In holy ecstasy - ’Midst whir of angel-wings, - Did God decree - The golden stars that shine: - The flaming morn, - And that this flesh of mine - Should once be born. - - And all the works of men - That live indeed: - Joyance of sword or pen, - High thought or deed, - Are in such primal fashion - Contrived and wrought. - God grant me fire of thought - To work Thy will--with Passion! - - - - -A COMMON PETITION - - - I crave not of the wonder - Of Thy full plan to see; - No secret would I plunder - Of guarded destiny; - This only grant to me: - - To hear the rolling thunder - Of Life--be man alive: - Yet through no body’s blunder - To drag the bright soul under - --Drowned where it needs must dive. - - Keeping against all Fate - That Thou hast given me-- - The dual mystery - Of man--inviolate. - - - - -AN ADVENTURE WITH GOD - - - Far worse than pain, - Unutterable weariness - Of blood and brain-- - Intolerable dreariness - Of days God gave me. - And I bethought - The first fresh flood of youth that rose to leave me, - And how in those brave days-- - Virgin of lust and spot-- - I had forgot - To render any praise. - Then, as I thus looked upward through the net - Wherein both soul and flesh lay cunningly caught, - God (’twas like Springtime calling from the earth - The flowers to birth!) - Smiled down and did restore - All that I had before. - - - - -THE STRANGER - - - It happened in a blood-red hell ringed round with golden weather; - Walking in khaki through a trench he came, - When life was death, and wounded men and great shells screamed - together: - I did not know his name. - But so white-faced and wan, we talked a little while together - Amongst dead men, and timbers black with flame. - - “What would you do with life again,” asks he, “if one could give it?” - “No use to talk when life is done,” I say. - “But, by the living God, if He should grant me life I’d live it - Kinder to man, truer to God each day.” - - Flame and the noise of doom devoured the words, and for a while - Senseless I lay.... Then, - Oh, then as in a dream I saw the stranger with a smile - Moving towards me over the dead men. - - Red, red were his hands and feet and a great hole in his side, - Yet glory seemed to blaze about his head; - “Kinder to man, truer to God,” he whispered, and then died; - Falling down, arms outspread. - Ere darkness fell upon me with the faintness and the pain, - I saw a mangled body lying prone - Upon the earth beside me. But what I can’t explain - Is--_The stretcher-bearers found me quite alone_. - - But, howsoe’er it happened, it matters not at last, - Since God’s dear Son came down to earth and died - In bloodshed, and the darkness of clouds that groaned aghast; - With pierced hands and a great wound in His side. - - It is not in my heart to hate the pleasant sins I leave. - Earth’s passion flames within me fierce and strong. - But this is like a shadow ever rising up to thieve - Sin’s pleasures, and the lure of every pattern lust can weave, - And charm of all things that can do Him wrong. - - - - -THE BUGLER - - - God dreamed a man; - Then, having firmly shut - Life like a precious metal in his fist, - Withdrew, His labour done. Thus did begin - Our various divinity and sin. - For some to ploughshares did the metal twist, - And others--dreaming empires--straightway cut - Crowns for their aching foreheads. Others beat - Long nails and heavy hammers for the feet - Of their forgotten Lord. (Who dare to boast - That he is guiltless?) Others coined it: most - Did with it--simply nothing. (Here, again, - Who cries his innocence?) Yet doth remain - Metal unmarred, to each man more or less, - Whereof to fashion perfect loveliness. - - For me, I do but bear within my hand - (For sake of Him our Lord, now long forsaken) - A simple bugle such as may awaken - With one high morning note a drowsing man: - That wheresoe’er within my motherland - The sound may come, ’twill echo far and wide - Like pipes of battle calling up a clan, - Trumpeting men through beauty to God’s side. - - - PRINTED BY - HAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD., - LONDON AND AYLESBURY. - - - - -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE: - - - Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GLOUCESTERSHIRE FRIENDS: POEMS -FROM A GERMAN PRISON CAMP *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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Harvey—A Project Gutenberg eBook - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1 { - text-align: left; - clear: both; -} - - h2 {text-align: center; - clear: both;} - - h3 { - text-align: left; - font-size: x-large; - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; page-break-after: always;} -div.titlepage p {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 2em;} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } - -div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} -h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} -h3.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} - -table { - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; -} - -.tdr {text-align: right;} -.tdc {text-indent: 2em;} - -.pagenum { - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - font-style: normal; - font-weight: normal; - font-variant: normal; -} - -.hangingindent { text-indent: -2em; margin-left: 2em; } - -.blockquot { - margin-left: 30%; - margin-right: 30%; -} - -a {text-decoration: none;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -.allsmcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;} - -.ph1 {text-align: center; font-size: xx-large; font-weight: bold;} -.ph2 {text-align: center; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;} -.gap {padding-left: 2em;} - -.xxlarge {font-size: 175%;} -.xlarge {font-size: 150%;} -.large {font-size: 125%;} - -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; - page-break-inside: avoid; - max-width: 100%; -} - -.figright { - float: right; - clear: right; - margin-left: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-right: 0; - padding: 0; - text-align: center; - page-break-inside: avoid; - max-width: 100%; -} - -.x-ebookmaker .figright {float: right;} - - -.poetry-container {text-align: center;} -.poetry {display: inline-block; text-align: left;} -.poetry .verse {text-indent: -2.5em; padding-left: 3em;} -.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} -.poetry .indent {text-indent: 1.5em;} -.poetry .indent2 {text-indent: 2.5em;} -.poetry .indent3 {text-indent: 3.5em;} -.poetry .indent5 {text-indent: 4em;} -.poetry .verseright { text-align: right;} -@media print { .poetry {display: block;} } -.x-ebookmaker .poetry {display: block;} - -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - margin-left: 17.5%; - margin-right: 17.5%; - padding: 1em; - margin-bottom:5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; } - - </style> - </head> -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Gloucestershire Friends: Poems From a German Prison Camp, by F. W. Harvey</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Gloucestershire Friends: Poems From a German Prison Camp</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: F. W. Harvey</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Contributor: Rev. Bishop Frodsham</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: September 22, 2021 [eBook #66362]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: D A Alexander, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by University of California libraries)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GLOUCESTERSHIRE FRIENDS: POEMS FROM A GERMAN PRISON CAMP ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.jpg" width="50%" alt="" /></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h1>Gloucestershire Friends</h1> - -<div class="figright"><img src="images/i_logopage1.jpg" alt="" /></div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center">BY THE SAME AUTHOR</p> -</div> - -<p class="center"><i>Fourth Impression</i></p> - -<p class="center">A Gloucestershire Lad at Home<br /> -and Abroad</p> - -<p class="center">Cloth 2<i>s.</i> net; paper 1<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> net.</p> - - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“The secret of Mr. Harvey’s power is that he -says what other English lads in Flanders want to -say and cannot.... This modest little volume has -real charm, and not a little depth of thought and -beauty. It contains far more real poetry than many -a volume ten times its length.”—Bishop Frodsham -in <i>The Saturday Review</i>.</p> - -<p>“A poet of power and a subtle distinction.... -This little collection of his poems, which has a -Preface by his Commanding Officer, will give him -a high place in the Sidneian company of soldier-poets.”—E. -B. O. in <i>The Morning Post</i>.</p> -</div> - - -<p class="center">London: Sidgwick & Jackson, Ltd.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<p><span class="xxlarge">Gloucestershire Friends:</span><br /> -<br /> -<span class="xlarge">Poems from a German Prison Camp</span></p> - -<p>by<br /> -<span class="xlarge">F. W. Harvey</span><br /> -<br /> -Author of<br /> -“A Gloucestershire Lad at Home and Abroad”</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_logo.jpg" alt="" /></div> - -<p><span class="large">Introduction by the Right Rev. <span class="smcap">Bishop Frodsham</span><br /> -Canon Residentiary of Gloucester</span></p> - - -<p><span class="xlarge">London: Sidgwick & Jackson, Ltd.<br /> -3 Adam Street, Adelphi, W.C.2.<span class="gap"> 1917</span></span></p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center"> -<i>First published in 1917</i><br /> -<br /> -<i>All rights reserved</i></p> -</div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center"> -TO<br /> -<br /> -THE BEST OF ALL<br /> -<br /> -GLOUCESTERSHIRE FRIENDS<br /> -<br /> -<span class="large">MY MOTHER</span></p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h2 class="nobreak">CONTENTS</h2> -</div></div> - - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table"> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdr">PAGE</td></tr> - -<tr><td>INTRODUCTION, BY BISHOP FRODSHAM</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_11"> 11</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>CLOUD MESSENGERS</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_13"> 13</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>LONELINESS </td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_14"> 14</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>AUTUMN IN PRISON</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_15"> 15</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>WHAT WE THINK OF</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_16"> 16</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>PRISONERS</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_17"> 17</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>SONNET, TO ONE KILLED IN ACTION</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_18"> 18</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>THE HATEFUL ROAD</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_19"> 19</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>ENGLISH FLOWERS IN A FOREIGN GARDEN</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_20"> 20</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>THE BOND</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_21"> 21</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>TO YOU—UNSUNG</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_22"> 22</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>A CHRISTMAS WISH</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_23"> 23</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>TO KATHLEEN</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_24"> 24</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>CHRISTMAS IN PRISON</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_25"> 25</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>TO THE OLD YEAR</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_26"> 26</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>BALLADE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_27"> 27</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>BALLADE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_29"> 29</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>SOLITARY CONFINEMENT</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_31"> 31</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>A RONDEL OF GLOUCESTERSHIRE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_32"> 32</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>THE LITTLE ROAD</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_33"> 33</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>SONNET</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_34"> 34</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span></td></tr> - -<tr><td>ENGLAND, IN MEMORY </td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_35"> 35</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>THE DEAD</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_36"> 36</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>THE SLEEPERS</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_37"> 37</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>COMRADES O’ MINE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_38"> 38</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>TO R. E. K. </td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_39"> 39</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>BALLAD OF ARMY PAY</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_40"> 40</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>TO THE DEVIL ON HIS APPALLING DECADENCE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_43"> 43</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>AT AFTERNOON TEA</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_44"> 44</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>TO THE UNKNOWN NURSE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_45"> 45</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>THE HORSES</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_46"> 46</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>MOTHER AND SON</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_47"> 47</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#Page_48"> GROWN UPS:</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdc">1. TIMMY TAYLOR AND THE RATS</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_48"> 48</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdc">2. WILLUM ACCOUNTS FOR THE PRICE OF LAMPREY</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_50"> 50</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdc">3. THE OLDEST INHABITANT HEARS FAR OFF THE DRUMS OF DEATH</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_51"> 51</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdc">4. SETH BEMOANS THE OLDEST INHABITANT </td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_52"> 52</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdc">5. A RIVER, A PIG, AND BRAINS</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_53"> 53</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdc">6. MARTHA BAZIN ON MARRIAGE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_54"> 54</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#Page_55"> CHILDREN:</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdc">1. LITTLE ABEL GOES TO CHURCH</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_55"> 55</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdc">2. DELIGHTS</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_56"> 56</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdc">3. THE BOY WITH LITTLE BARE TOES</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_57"> 57</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>THE WIND IN TOWN TREES</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_58"> 58</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>FORM—A STUDY</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_59"> 59</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>VILLANELLE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_60"> 60</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>KOSSOVO DAY</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_61"> 61</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>A PHILOSOPHY</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_62"> 62</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>CONSOLATOR AFFLICTORUM</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_63"> 63</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>RECOGNITION</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_64"> 64</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>ON OVER BRIDGE AT EVENING</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_65"> 65</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>PASSION</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_66"> 66</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>A COMMON PETITION</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_67"> 67</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>AN ADVENTURE WITH GOD</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_68"> 68</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>THE STRANGER</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_69"> 69</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>THE BUGLER</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_71"> 71</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span></p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">INTRODUCTION</h2> - - -<p class="center">by Bishop Frodsham</p> -</div> - -<p> </p> -<p>“<span class="smcap">Good</span> wine needs no bush.” Those who know and -love “A Gloucestershire Lad” would resent any -lengthy attempt to praise the quality of Lieutenant -Harvey’s verses. Some of the poems from a German -prison camp may reach a far higher standard of -lyric excellence than any in the earlier volume. The -two ballades on war and “The Bugler” grip one by -the throat. But all the verses have a sweetness and -beauty entirely their own.</p> - -<p>The poems are all short—too short. Lieutenant -Harvey sings like the wild birds of his own dear -Gloucestershire because he cannot help doing so. -He stops short—as they do—and like them begins -again. What can we do but take what he gives us, -wondering that he can write so well, mewed as he is -in a cage—and such a cage! An agony of inarticulate -longing shrills in a feathered cageling’s song: the -man simply and unaffectedly lays bare his heart, his -love, his faith, his hope, his sense of loneliness, of -ineffectiveness, of baffled purposes and incompleted -manhood.</p> - -<p>Memory is at once the joy and torment of all who -are forced to think. Memory tears the heart-strings -of those who are in captivity. It makes some hopeless -and weak, others bitter and savage, according to -their natures. Beneath all the music of this man’s -words there is an undertone of fierce anger that sweeps -him away at times, but is this not characteristic of -many other young Englishmen who laugh so well, and -“woo bright danger for a thrilling kiss”? His memories -sweep along the great gamut of his own tremendous -experiences, and yet they never lose the melodies -of home. Perhaps because of the objects of his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span> -heart’s desire he is so kindly withal, so modest, so -humorous, and, to use his own words of another, “so -worldly foolish, so divinely wise.” Herein is the -fascination of these verses.</p> - -<p>The manuscript was sent on by the prison authorities -of Crefeld without any obliteration or excision. This -must be counted unto them for literary righteousness. -Yet it would be difficult to imagine what the most -stony-hearted German censor could resent in any one -of Lieutenant Harvey’s poems, unless it might be a -deep love for England and an overwhelming desire to -be with his love again.</p> - -<p>Many unfortunates who have had dear ones imprisoned -at Gütersloh, where most of these poems were -written, and at other centres, are looking forward -eagerly to the publication of this little book. If they -expect to read descriptions of the life of the camp, -or reflections upon the conduct of German gaolers, -they will be disappointed. The circumstances of the -case have made such revelations impossible. If they -had been possible, it is still doubtful if they would -have been made here. But it will be strange if such -readers do not find better things than they expected. -Transpose any other county of this land for Gloucestershire, -or any other home for the tree-encircled -house at Minsterworth, then they will learn what the -best of England’s captive sons are thinking, and so -take heart of grace from the true love-songs of a -Gloucestershire soldier, written first and foremost for -his mother.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span> - -<p class="ph1">GLOUCESTERSHIRE<br /> -FRIENDS</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">CLOUD MESSENGERS</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">You</span> clouds that with the wind your warden</div> -<div class="indent">Flying toward the Channel go,</div> -<div class="verse">Or ever the frost your fruit shall harden</div> -<div class="indent">To hail and sleet and driving snow,</div> -<div class="verse">Go seek one sunny old sweet garden—</div> -<div class="indent">An English garden that I know.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Therein perchance my Mother, straying</div> -<div class="indent">Among her dahlias, shall see</div> -<div class="verse">Your rainy gems in sunlight swaying</div> -<div class="indent">On flower of gold and emerald tree.</div> -<div class="indent">Then in her heart feel suddenly</div> -<div class="verse">Old love and laughter, like sunshine playing</div> -<div class="indent">Through tears of memory.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">LONELINESS</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="indent2"><span class="smcap">Oh</span> where’s the use to write?</div> -<div class="indent2">What can I tell you, dear?</div> -<div class="indent2">Just that I want you so</div> -<div class="indent2">Who are not near.</div> -<div class="verse">Just that I miss the lamp whose blessèd light</div> -<div class="verse">Was God’s own moon to shine upon my night,</div> -<div class="verse">And newly mourn each new day’s lost delight:</div> -<div class="verse">Just—oh, it will not ease my pain—</div> -<div class="indent2">That I am lonely</div> -<div class="indent2">Until I see you once again,</div> -<div class="indent2">You—you only.</div> -</div></div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">AUTUMN IN PRISON</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Here</span> where no tree changes,</div> -<div class="indent">Here in a prison of pine,</div> -<div class="verse">I think how Autumn ranges</div> -<div class="indent">The country that is mine.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">There—rust upon the chill breeze—</div> -<div class="indent">The woodland leaf now whirls;</div> -<div class="verse">There sway the yellowing birches</div> -<div class="indent">Like dainty dancing girls.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Oh, how the leaves are dancing</div> -<div class="indent">With Death at Lassington!</div> -<div class="verse">And Death is now enhancing</div> -<div class="indent">Beauty I walked upon.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">The roads with leaves are littered,</div> -<div class="indent">Yellow, brown, and red.</div> -<div class="verse">The homes where robins twittered</div> -<div class="indent">Lie ruin; but instead</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Gaunt arms of stretching giants</div> -<div class="indent">Stand in the azure air,</div> -<div class="verse">Cutting the sky in pattern</div> -<div class="indent">So common, yet so fair.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">The heart is kindled by it,</div> -<div class="indent">And lifted as with wine,</div> -<div class="verse">In Lassington and Highnam—</div> -<div class="indent">The woodlands that were mine.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">WHAT WE THINK OF</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Walking</span> round our cages like the lions at the Zoo,</div> -<div class="verse">We think of things that we have done, and things we mean to do:</div> -<div class="verse">Of girls we left behind us, of letters that are due,</div> -<div class="verse">Of boating on the river beneath a sky of blue,</div> -<div class="verse">Of hills we climbed together—not always for the view.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Walking round our cages like the lions at the Zoo,</div> -<div class="verse">We see the phantom faces of you, and you, and you,</div> -<div class="verse">Faces of those we loved or loathed—oh every one we knew!</div> -<div class="verse">And deeds we wrought in carelessness for happiness or rue,</div> -<div class="verse">And dreams we broke in folly, and seek to build anew,—</div> -<div class="verse">Walking round our cages like the lions at the Zoo.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">PRISONERS</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Comrades</span> of risk and rigour long ago</div> -<div class="verse">Who have done battle under honour’s name,</div> -<div class="verse">Hoped (living or shot down) some meed of fame,</div> -<div class="verse">And wooed bright Danger for a thrilling kiss,—</div> -<div class="verse">Laugh, oh laugh well, that we have come to this!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Laugh, oh laugh loud, all ye who long ago</div> -<div class="verse">Adventure found in gallant company!</div> -<div class="verse">Safe in Stagnation, laugh, laugh bitterly,</div> -<div class="verse">While on this filthiest backwater of Time’s flow</div> -<div class="verse">Drift we and rot, till something set us free!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Laugh like old men with senses atrophied,</div> -<div class="verse">Heeding no Present, to the Future dead,</div> -<div class="verse">Nodding quite foolish by the warm fireside</div> -<div class="verse">And seeing no flame, but only in the red</div> -<div class="verse">And flickering embers, pictures of the past:—</div> -<div class="verse">Life like a cinder fading black at last.</div> -</div></div></div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">SONNET<br /> - - -<small>(<span class="smcap">To One Killed in Action</span>)</small></h3> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">My</span> undevout yet ardent sacrifice</div> -<div class="indent">Did God refuse, knowing how carelessly</div> -<div class="indent">And with what curious sensuality</div> -<div class="verse">The coloured flames did flicker and arise.</div> -<div class="verse">Half boy, half decadent, always my eyes</div> -<div class="indent">Sparkle to danger: Oh it was joy to me</div> -<div class="indent">To sit with Death gambling desperately</div> -<div class="verse">The borrowed Coin of Life. But you, more wise,</div> -<div class="verse">Went forth for nothing but to do God’s will:</div> -<div class="indent">Went gravely out—well knowing what you did</div> -<div class="indent2">And hating it—with feet that did not falter</div> -<div class="indent2">To place your gift upon the highest altar.</div> -<div class="verse">Therefore to you this last and finest thrill</div> -<div class="indent">Is given—even Death itself, to me forbid.</div> -</div></div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">THE HATEFUL ROAD</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Oh pleasant</span> things there be</div> -<div class="indent">Without this prison yard:</div> -<div class="verse">Fields green, and many a tree</div> -<div class="indent">With shadow on the sward,</div> -<div class="verse">And drifting clouds that pass</div> -<div class="verse">Sailing above the grass.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">All lovely things that be</div> -<div class="indent">Beyond this strong abode</div> -<div class="verse">Send comfort back to me;</div> -<div class="verse">Yea, everything I see</div> -<div class="indent">Except the hateful road;</div> -<div class="verse">The road that runs so free</div> -<div class="indent">With many a dip and rise,</div> -<div class="verse">That waves and beckons me</div> -<div class="verse">And mocks and calls at me</div> -<div class="verse">And will not let me be</div> -<div class="indent">Even when I close my eyes.</div> -</div></div></div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">ENGLISH FLOWERS IN A FOREIGN -GARDEN</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Snapdragon</span>, sunflower, sweet-pea,</div> -<div class="verse">Flowers which fill the heart of me</div> -<div class="verse">With so sweet and bitter fancy:</div> -<div class="verse">Glowing rose and pensive pansy,</div> -<div class="verse">You that pierce me with a blade</div> -<div class="verse">Beat from molten memory,</div> -<div class="verse">With what art, how tenderly,</div> -<div class="verse">You heal the wounds that you have made!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Thrushes, finches, birds that beat</div> -<div class="verse">Magical and thrilling sweet</div> -<div class="verse">Little far-off fairy gongs:</div> -<div class="verse">Blackbird with your mellow songs,</div> -<div class="verse">Valiant robin, thieving sparrows,</div> -<div class="verse">Though you wound me as with arrows,</div> -<div class="verse">Still with you among these flowers</div> -<div class="verse">Surely I find my sweetest hours.</div> -</div></div></div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">THE BOND</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Once</span>, I remember, when we were at home</div> -<div class="verse">I had come into church, and waited late,</div> -<div class="verse">Ere lastly kneeling to communicate</div> -<div class="verse">Alone: and thinking that you would not come.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Then, with closed eyes (having received the Host)</div> -<div class="verse">I prayed for your dear self, and turned to rise;</div> -<div class="verse">When lo! beside me like a blessed ghost—</div> -<div class="verse">Nay, a grave sunbeam—<i>you</i>! Scarcely my eyes</div> -<div class="verse">Could credit it, so softly had you come</div> -<div class="verse">Beside me as I thought I walked alone.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Thus long ago; but now, when fate bereaves</div> -<div class="verse">Life of old joys, how often as I’m kneeling</div> -<div class="verse">To take the Blessed Sacrifice that weaves</div> -<div class="verse">Life’s tangled threads, so broken to man’s seeing,</div> -<div class="verse">Into one whole; I have the sudden feeling</div> -<div class="verse">That you are by, and look to see a face</div> -<div class="verse">Made in fair flesh beside me, and all my being</div> -<div class="verse">Thrills with the old sweet wonder and faint fear</div> -<div class="verse">As in that sabbath hour—how long ago!—</div> -<div class="verse">When you had crept so lightly to your place.</div> -<div class="verse">Then, then, <i>I know</i></div> -<div class="verse">(My heart can always tell) that you are near.</div> -</div></div></div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">TO YOU—UNSUNG<br /> - - -<small>(<span class="smcap">Sonnet</span>)</small></h3> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">How</span> should I sing you?—you who dwell unseen</div> -<div class="indent">Within the darkest chamber of my heart.</div> -<div class="indent">What picturesque and inward-turning art</div> -<div class="verse">Could shadow forth the image of my queen,</div> -<div class="verse">Sweet, world aloof, ineffably serene</div> -<div class="indent">Like holy dawn, yet so entirely part</div> -<div class="indent">Of what am I, as well a man might start</div> -<div class="verse">To paint his breathing, or his red blood’s sheen.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Nay, seek yourself, who are their truest breath,</div> -<div class="indent">In these my songs made for delight of men.</div> -<div class="indent2">Oh, where they fail, ’tis I that am in blame,</div> -<div class="indent">But, where the words loom larger than my pen,</div> -<div class="indent2">Be sure they ring glad echoes of your name,</div> -<div class="verse">And Love that triumphs over Life and Death.</div> -</div></div></div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">A CHRISTMAS WISH</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">I cannot</span> give you happiness:</div> -<div class="verse">For wishes long have ceased to bring</div> -<div class="verse">The Fortune which to page and king</div> -<div class="verse">They brought in those good centuries,</div> -<div class="verse">When with a quaint and starry wand</div> -<div class="verse">Witches turned poor men’s thoughts to gold</div> -<div class="verse">And Cinderella’s carriage rolled</div> -<div class="verse">Through moonlight into Fairyland.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">I may but <i>wish</i> you happiness:</div> -<div class="verse">Not Pleasure’s dusty fruit to find,</div> -<div class="verse">But wines of Mirth and Friendship kind,</div> -<div class="verse">And Love, to make with you a home.</div> -<div class="verse">But may Our Lord whose Son has come</div> -<div class="verse">Now heed the wish and make it true,</div> -<div class="verse">Even as elves were wont to do</div> -<div class="verse">When wishing could bring happiness.</div> -</div></div></div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">TO KATHLEEN, AT CHRISTMAS<br /> - - -<small>(<span class="smcap">An Acrostic</span>)</small></h3> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"> <span class="smcap"> K ings</span> of the East did bring their gold</div> -<div class="verse"> A nd jewels unto the cattle fold.</div> -<div class="verse"> T he angel’s song was heard by men</div> -<div class="verse">“H oly! holy! holy!” then.</div> -<div class="verse"> L ittle and weak in the manger He lay</div> -<div class="verse"> E ven as you in a cradle to-day;</div> -<div class="verse"> E ven as you did the Christ-child rest</div> -<div class="verse"> N estling warm in His mother’s breast.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent"><span class="smcap">Gütersloh</span>,</div> -<div class="indent2"><i>December 1916.</i></div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">CHRISTMAS IN PRISON</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent3"><span class="smcap">Outside</span>, white snow</div> -<div class="indent3">And freezing mire.</div> -<div class="indent3">The heart of the house</div> -<div class="indent3">Is a blazing fire!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Even so whatever hags do ride</div> -<div class="verse">His outward fortune, withinside</div> -<div class="verse">The heart of a man burns Christmastide!</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">TO THE OLD YEAR</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Old</span> year, farewell!</div> -<div class="verse">Much have you given which was ill to bear:</div> -<div class="verse">Much have taken which was dear, so dear:</div> -<div class="verse">Much have you spoken which was ill to hear;</div> -<div class="verse">Echoes of speech first uttered deep in hell.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Pass now like some grey harlot to the tomb!</div> -<div class="verse">Yet die in child-birth, and from out your womb</div> -<div class="verse">Leap the young year unsullied! He perchance</div> -<div class="verse">Shall bring to man his lost inheritance.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">BALLADE<br /> - - -<small><span class="smcap">No.</span> 1</small></h3> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Bodies</span> of comrade soldiers gleaming white</div> -<div class="indent">Within the mill-pool where you float and dive</div> -<div class="verse">And lounge around part-clothed or naked quite;</div> -<div class="indent">Beautiful shining forms of men alive,</div> -<div class="indent">O living lutes stringed with the senses five</div> -<div class="verse">For Love’s sweet fingers; seeing Fate afar,</div> -<div class="indent">My very soul with Death for you must strive;</div> -<div class="verse">Because of you I loathe the name of War.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">But O you piteous corpses yellow-black,</div> -<div class="indent">Rotting unburied in the sunbeam’s light,</div> -<div class="verse">With teeth laid bare by yellow lips curled back</div> -<div class="indent">Most hideously; whose tortured souls took flight</div> -<div class="indent">Leaving your limbs, all mangled by the fight,</div> -<div class="verse">In attitudes of horror fouler far</div> -<div class="indent">Than dreams which haunt a devil’s brain at night;</div> -<div class="verse">Because of you I loathe the name of War.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Mothers and maids who loved you, and the wives</div> -<div class="indent">Bereft of your sweet presences; yea, all</div> -<div class="verse">Who knew you beautiful; and those small lives</div> -<div class="indent">Made of that knowledge; O, and you who call</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span> -<div class="indent">For life (but vainly now) from that dark hall</div> -<div class="verse">Where wait the Unborn, and the loves which are</div> -<div class="indent">In future generations to befall;</div> -<div class="verse">Because of you I loathe the name of War.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="allsmcap">L’ENVOI</span></div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> - -<div class="verse">Prince Jesu, hanging stark upon a tree</div> -<div class="indent">Crucified as the malefactors are</div> -<div class="verse">That man and man henceforth should brothers be;</div> -<div class="indent">Because of you I loathe the name of War.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">BALLADE<br /> - - -<small><span class="smcap">No.</span> 2</small></h3> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">You</span> dawns, whose loveliness I have not missed,</div> -<div class="indent">Making so delicate background for the larches</div> -<div class="verse">Melting the hills to softest amethyst;</div> -<div class="indent">O beauty never absent from our marches;</div> -<div class="indent">Passion of heaven shot golden through the arches</div> -<div class="verse">Of woods, or filtered softly from a star,</div> -<div class="indent">Nature’s wild love that never cloys or parches;</div> -<div class="verse">Because of you I love the name of War.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">I have seen dawn and sunset, night and morning,</div> -<div class="indent">I have tramped tired and dusty to a tune</div> -<div class="verse">Of singing voices tired as I, but scorning</div> -<div class="indent">To yield up gaiety to sweltering June.</div> -<div class="indent">O comrades marching under blazing noon</div> -<div class="verse">Who told me tales in taverns near and far,</div> -<div class="indent">And sang and slept with me beneath the moon;</div> -<div class="verse">Because of you I love the name of War.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">But you most dear companions Life and Death,</div> -<div class="indent">Whose friendship I had never valued well</div> -<div class="verse">Until that Battle blew with fiery breath</div> -<div class="indent">Over the earth his message terrible;</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span> -<div class="indent">Crying aloud the things Peace could not tell,</div> -<div class="verse">Calling up ancient custom to the bar</div> -<div class="indent">Of God, to plead its cause with Heaven and Hell ...</div> -<div class="verse">Because of you I love the name of War.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="allsmcap">L’ENVOI</span></div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Prince Jesu, who did speak the amazing word</div> -<div class="verse">Loud, trumpet-clear, flame-flashing like a star</div> -<div class="verse">Which falls: “Not peace I bring you, but the sword!”</div> -<div class="verse">Because of you I love the name of War.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">SOLITARY CONFINEMENT</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">No</span> mortal comes to visit me to-day,</div> -<div class="indent">Only the gay and early-rising Sun</div> -<div class="verse">Who strolled in nonchalantly, just to say,</div> -<div class="indent">“Good morrow, and despair not, foolish one!”</div> -<div class="verse">But like the tune which comforted King Saul</div> -<div class="verse">Sounds in my brain that sunny madrigal.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Anon the playful Wind arises, swells</div> -<div class="indent">Into vague music, and departing, leaves</div> -<div class="verse">A sense of blue bare heights and tinkling bells,</div> -<div class="indent">Audible silences which sound achieves</div> -<div class="verse">Through music, mountain streams, and hinted heather,</div> -<div class="verse">And drowsy flocks drifting in golden weather.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Lastly, as to my bed I turn for rest.</div> -<div class="indent">Comes Lady Moon herself on silver feet</div> -<div class="verse">To sit with one white arm across my breast,</div> -<div class="indent">Talking of elves and haunts where they do meet.</div> -<div class="verse">No mortal comes to see me, yet I say</div> -<div class="verse">“Oh, I have had fine visitors to-day!”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Douai</span>,</div> -<div class="indent"><i>August 20th, 1916</i>.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">A RONDEL OF GLOUCESTERSHIRE</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Big</span> glory mellowing on the mellowing hills,</div> -<div class="verse">And in the little valleys, thatch and dreams,</div> -<div class="verse">Wrought by the manifold and vagrant wills</div> -<div class="verse">Of sun and ripening rain and wind; so gleams</div> -<div class="verse">My country, that great magic cup which spills</div> -<div class="verse">Into my mind a thousand thousand streams</div> -<div class="verse">Of glory mellowing on the mellowing hills</div> -<div class="verse">And in the little valleys, thatch and dreams.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">O you dear heights of blue no ploughman tills,</div> -<div class="verse">O valleys where the curling mist upsteams</div> -<div class="verse">White over fields of trembling daffodils,</div> -<div class="verse">And you old dusty little water-mills,</div> -<div class="verse">Through all my life, for joy of you, sweet thrills</div> -<div class="verse">Shook me, and in my death at last there beams</div> -<div class="verse">Big glory mellowing on the mellowing hills</div> -<div class="verse">And in the little valleys, thatch and dreams.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">THE LITTLE ROAD</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">I will</span> not take the great road that goes so proud and high,</div> -<div class="verse">Like the march of Roman legions that made it long ago;</div> -<div class="verse">But I will choose another way, a little road I know.</div> -<div class="verse">There no poor tramp goes limping, nor rich poor men drive by,</div> -<div class="verse">Nor ever crowding cattle, or sheep in dusty throng</div> -<div class="verse">Before their beating drovers drift cruelly along:</div> -<div class="verse">But only birds and free things, and ever in my ear</div> -<div class="verse">Sound of the leaves and little tongues of water talking near.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">The great roads march on boldly, with scarce a curve or bend,</div> -<div class="verse">From some huge smoky Nothing, to Nothing at their end;</div> -<div class="verse">They march like Cæsar’s legions, and none may them withstand,</div> -<div class="verse">But whence, or whither going, they do not understand,</div> -<div class="verse">But oh, the little twisty road,</div> -<div class="indent2">The sweet and lover’s-kiss-ty road,</div> -<div class="indent2">The secret winding misty road,</div> -<div class="indent2">That leads to Fairyland!</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">SONNET</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Christ God</span>, Who died for us, now turn Thy face!</div> -<div class="indent">Behold not what men do, lest once again</div> -<div class="indent">Thou should’st be crucified, and die of pain.</div> -<div class="verse">Look not, O Lord, but only of Thy grace</div> -<div class="verse">Do Thou let fall on this accursed place,</div> -<div class="indent">Where the poor starve and labour in disdain</div> -<div class="indent">Of blinded Greed and all its vulgar train,</div> -<div class="verse">A single thread of heaven that we may trace</div> -<div class="verse">Some way to Right! And since “great men” stand by,</div> -<div class="indent">Heedless of women and men that hunger, Lord,</div> -<div class="indent2">Give Thou to common men the vision splendid.</div> -<div class="indent">Take (and if need be break) them, like a sword;</div> -<div class="indent2">Take them, and break them till their lives be ended;</div> -<div class="verse">Here are a thousand christs ready to die!</div> -</div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">ENGLAND IN MEMORY<br /> - - -<small>(<span class="smcap">Sonnet</span>)</small></h3> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Sweet</span> Motherland, what have I done for thee,</div> -<div class="indent">What suffered, what of lasting beauty made?</div> -<div class="indent">I who ungratefully and undismayed</div> -<div class="verse">Drank from thy breast the milk which nourished me</div> -<div class="verse">In childhood, which until my death must be</div> -<div class="indent">The life within my veins. Lo, from that shade</div> -<div class="indent">Wherein they rest, thy dead and mine, arrayed</div> -<div class="verse">In honour’s robes, come clear and plaintively</div> -<div class="verse">Voices for ever to my listening ear</div> -<div class="indent">Which cry, “Not yet is finished England’s fight!</div> -<div class="indent2">Still, still must poets strive and martyrs bleed</div> -<div class="indent">To overthrow the enemies of Light,</div> -<div class="indent2">Armies of Dullness, Cruelty, Lust, and Greed!”</div> -<div class="verse">Yet what have I done for thee, England dear?</div> -</div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">THE DEAD</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">You</span> never crept into the night</div> -<div class="verse">That lurks for all mankind!</div> -<div class="verse">Joyous you lived and loved, and leapt</div> -<div class="verse">Into that gaping dark, where stept</div> -<div class="verse">Our Fathers all, to find</div> -<div class="verse">Old honour—jest of fools, yet still the soul of all delight.</div> -</div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">THE SLEEPERS</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">A battered</span> roof where stars went tripping</div> -<div class="indent2">With silver feet,</div> -<div class="verse">A broken roof whence rain came dripping,</div> -<div class="indent2">Yet rest was sweet.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">A dug-out where the rats ran squeaking</div> -<div class="indent2">Under the ground,</div> -<div class="verse">And out in front the poor dead reeking!</div> -<div class="indent2">Yet sleep was sound.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">No longer house or dug-out keeping,</div> -<div class="indent2">Within a cell</div> -<div class="verse">Of brown and bloody earth they’re sleeping;</div> -<div class="indent2">Oh they sleep well.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Thrice blessed sleep, the balm of sorrow!</div> -<div class="indent2">Thrice blessed eyes</div> -<div class="verse">Sealed up till on some doomsday morrow</div> -<div class="indent2">The sun arise!</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">COMRADES O’ MINE<br /> - - -<small>(<span class="smcap">Rondeau</span>)</small></h3> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Comrades</span> o’ mine, that were to me</div> -<div class="verse">More than my grief and gaiety,</div> -<div class="verse">More than my laughter or my pain:</div> -<div class="verse">Comrades, we shall not walk again</div> -<div class="verse">The road whereon we went so free—</div> -<div class="verse">The old way of Humanity.</div> -<div class="verse">But you are sleeping peacefully</div> -<div class="verse">Till the last dawn, heroic slain,</div> -<div class="indent5">Comrades o’ mine.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Till the last moon shall fade and flee</div> -<div class="verse">You sleep. Oh sleep not dreamlessly,</div> -<div class="verse">You whereof only dreams remain,</div> -<div class="verse">Come you by dreams into my brain,</div> -<div class="verse">Inspire my visions, and still be</div> -<div class="indent5">Comrades o’ mine!</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">TO <i>R. E. K.</i><br /> - - -<small>(<span class="smcap">In Memoriam</span>)</small></h3> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Dear</span>, rash, warm-hearted friend,</div> -<div class="verse">So careless of the end,</div> -<div class="verse">So worldly-foolish, so divinely-wise,</div> -<div class="verse">Who, caring not one jot</div> -<div class="verse">For place, gave all you’d got</div> -<div class="verse">To help your lesser fellow-men to rise.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Swift-footed, fleeter yet</div> -<div class="verse">Of heart. Swift to forget</div> -<div class="verse">The petty spite that life or men could show you;</div> -<div class="verse">Your last long race is won,</div> -<div class="verse">But beyond the sound of gun</div> -<div class="verse">You laugh and help men onward—if I know you.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Oh still you laugh, and walk,</div> -<div class="verse">And sing and frankly talk</div> -<div class="verse">(To angels) of the matters that amused you</div> -<div class="verse">In this bitter-sweet of life,</div> -<div class="verse">And we who keep its strife,</div> -<div class="verse">Take comfort in the thought how God has used you.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">BALLAD OF ARMY PAY</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">In</span> general, if you want a man to do a dangerous job:—</div> -<div class="verse">Say, swim the Channel, climb St. Paul’s, or break into and rob</div> -<div class="verse">The Bank of England, why, you find his wages must be higher</div> -<div class="verse">Than if you merely wanted him to light the kitchen fire.</div> -<div class="verse">But in the British Army, it’s just the other way,</div> -<div class="verse">And the maximum of danger means the minimum of pay.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">You put some men inside a trench, and call them infantrie,</div> -<div class="verse">And make them face ten kinds of hell, and face it cheerfully;</div> -<div class="verse">And live in holes like rats, with other rats, and lice, and toads,</div> -<div class="verse">And in their leisure time, assist the R.E.’s with their loads.</div> -<div class="verse">Then, when they’ve done it all, you give ’em each a bob a day!</div> -<div class="verse">For the maximum of danger means the minimum of pay.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span> -<div class="verse">We won’t run down the A.S.C., nor yet the R.T.O.</div> -<div class="verse">They ration and direct us on the way we’ve got to go.</div> -<div class="verse">They’re very useful people, and it’s pretty plain to see</div> -<div class="verse">We couldn’t do without ’em, nor yet the A.P.C.</div> -<div class="verse">But comparing risks and wages,—I think they all will say</div> -<div class="verse">That the maximum of danger means the minimum of pay.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">There are men who make munitions—and seventy bob a week;</div> -<div class="verse">They never see a lousy trench nor hear a big shell shriek;</div> -<div class="verse">And others <i>sing</i> about the war at high-class music-halls</div> -<div class="verse">Getting heaps and heaps of money and encores from the stalls.</div> -<div class="verse">They “keep the home fires burning” and bright by night and day,</div> -<div class="verse">While the maximum of danger means the minimum of pay.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">I wonder if it’s harder to make big shells at a bench,</div> -<div class="verse">Than to face the screaming beggars when they’re crumping up a trench;</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span> -<div class="verse">I wonder if it’s harder to sing in mellow tones</div> -<div class="verse">Of danger, than to face it—say, in a wood like Trone’s;</div> -<div class="verse">Is discipline skilled labour, or something children play?</div> -<div class="verse">Should the maximum of danger mean the minimum of pay?</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">TO THE DEVIL ON HIS APPALLING -DECADENCE</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Satan</span>, old friend and enemy of man;</div> -<div class="verse">Lord of the shadows and the sins whereby</div> -<div class="verse">We wretches glimpse the sun in Virtue’s sky</div> -<div class="verse">Guessing at last the wideness of His plan</div> -<div class="verse">Who fashioned kid and tiger, slayer and slain,</div> -<div class="verse">The paradox of evil, and the pain</div> -<div class="verse">Which threshes joy as with a winnowing fan:</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Satan, of old your custom ’twas at least</div> -<div class="verse">To throw an apple to the soul you caught</div> -<div class="verse">Robbing your orchard. You, before you wrought</div> -<div class="verse">Damnation due and marked it with the beast,</div> -<div class="verse">Before its eyes were e’en disposed to dangle</div> -<div class="verse">Fruitage delicious. And you would not mangle</div> -<div class="verse">Nor maul the body of the dear deceased.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">But you were called familiarly “Old Nick”—</div> -<div class="verse">The Devil, yet a gentleman you know!</div> -<div class="verse">Relentless—true, yet courteous to a foe.</div> -<div class="verse">Man’s soul your traffic was. You would not kick</div> -<div class="verse">His bloody entrails flying in the air.</div> -<div class="verse">Oh, “Krieg ist Krieg,” we know, and “C’est la guerre!”</div> -<div class="verse">But Satan, don’t you feel a trifle sick?</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">AT AFTERNOON TEA<br /> - - -<small>(<span class="smcap">Triolet</span>)</small></h3> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">We</span> have taken a trench</div> -<div class="indent">Near Combles, I see,</div> -<div class="verse">Along with the French.</div> -<div class="verse">We have taken a trench.</div> -<div class="verse">(<i>Oh, the bodies, the stench!</i>)</div> -<div class="verse">Won’t you have some more tea?</div> -<div class="indent">We have taken a trench</div> -<div class="verse">Near Combles, I see.</div> -</div></div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">TO THE UNKNOWN NURSE</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Moth</span>-like at night you flit or fly</div> -<div class="verse">To where the other patients lie;</div> -<div class="verse">I hear, as you brush by my door</div> -<div class="verse">The flutter of your wings, no more.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Shall I now call you in and see</div> -<div class="verse">The phantom vanish instantly?</div> -<div class="verse">Perhaps some sixteen stone or worse,</div> -<div class="verse">Suddenly falling through my verse!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Nay, be you sour, or be you sweet,</div> -<div class="verse">I’d see you not. Life’s wisdom is</div> -<div class="verse">To keep one’s dreams. Oh never quiz</div> -<div class="verse">The lovely lady in the street!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">I knew a man who went large-eyed</div> -<div class="verse">And happy, till he bought pince-nez</div> -<div class="verse">And saw things as they were. He died</div> -<div class="verse">—A pessimist—the other day.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">THE HORSES</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">My</span> father bred great horses,</div> -<div class="indent">Chestnut, grey, and brown.</div> -<div class="verse">They grazed about the meadows,</div> -<div class="indent">And trampled into town.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">They left the homely meadows</div> -<div class="indent">And trampled far away,</div> -<div class="verse">The great shining horses,</div> -<div class="indent">Chestnut, and brown, and grey.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Gone are the horses</div> -<div class="indent">That my father bred.</div> -<div class="verse">And who knows whither?...</div> -<div class="indent">Or whether starved or fed?...</div> -<div class="verse">Gone are the horses,</div> -<div class="indent">And my father’s dead.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">MOTHER AND SON</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">“Bow-wow!</span> Bow-wow!” See how he bounds and prances,</div> -<div class="verse">“<i>Wow!</i>” races off, returns again and dances—</div> -<div class="verse">A little wave of sunshine and brown fur—</div> -<div class="verse">About his old rheumatic mother-cur.</div> -<div class="verse">Look how she gives him back his baby bite</div> -<div class="verse">Tenderly as a human mother might.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Now, poor old thing—she gazes quaintly up</div> -<div class="verse">To laugh dog-fashion at me. “What a pup,</div> -<div class="verse">Master!” she seems to say: then, like a wave,</div> -<div class="verse">He’s down on her again—“Oh, master, see,</div> -<div class="verse">I’m growing old.... What spirits youngsters have!”</div> -<div class="verse">Her old eyes blink as they look up at me.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>GROWN UPS</i></h2> - - -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">1. TIMMY TAYLOR AND THE RATS</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">It</span> was a spell of sultry weather,</div> -<div class="verse">There’d been no rain for weeks together,</div> -<div class="indent">And little Timmy Taylor,</div> -<div class="indent2">A mouse of a man,</div> -<div class="indent">Walked down the road</div> -<div class="indent2">With a big milk-can,</div> -<div class="verse">Walked softly down the road at night</div> -<div class="verse">When the stars were thick and the moon was bright.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Hard by the road a spring came up</div> -<div class="verse">To glimmer in a rare bright cup</div> -<div class="verse">Of green-sward, burnt elsewhere quite dry.</div> -<div class="verse">To this he came—we won’t ask why—</div> -<div class="indent">Little Timmy Taylor,</div> -<div class="indent">The mouse of a man,</div> -<div class="indent">With a big milk-can.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Then, as he turned, so goes the story—</div> -<div class="verse">Came trooping through the moonlight glory</div> -<div class="verse">Hundreds and scores of—what do you think?</div> -<div class="verse">Rats! rats a-coming down to drink</div> -<div class="verse">From granary and barn and stack,</div> -<div class="verse">Grey and tawny, brown and black,</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span> -<div class="verse">Tails cocked up and teeth all gleaming,</div> -<div class="verse">Beady eyes light-filled, and seeming</div> -<div class="verse">That moony-mad and hunger-fierce.</div> -<div class="indent">Little Timmy Taylor,</div> -<div class="indent">The mouse of a man,</div> -<div class="indent">Dropped the milk-can,</div> -<div class="verse">And giving a shriek—’twas fit to pierce</div> -<div class="verse">The ear o’ the dead—he ran away,</div> -<div class="verse">And the can was found in the road next day.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<div class="hangingindent"> -<h3 class="nobreak">2. WILLUM ACCOUNTS FOR THE<br /> -PRICE OF LAMPREY</h3> -</div></div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">“Aye</span>, sure, it’s pretty fish, but there’s no sale</div> -<div class="verse">Nowadays.” “Why?” “Well, the story that they tell</div> -<div class="verse">Is, as the king were very fond on ’em,</div> -<div class="verse">And all the fashion ate and paid up well.</div> -<div class="verse">And then one day our king—so goes the tale—</div> -<div class="verse">Ate over-hearty-like and throwed ’em up.</div> -<div class="verse">So all the fashion with him when he dined</div> -<div class="verse">Cut out their orders,—and the price cum down.</div> -<div class="verse">And maybe that be true, for still in town</div> -<div class="verse">Our council—scheming, likely, to remind</div> -<div class="verse">His Majesty of joys he left behind—</div> -<div class="verse">Sends un the very prince o’ lamprey pies</div> -<div class="verse">(I’ve seen un many a while in Fisher’s winder)</div> -<div class="verse">And so, God willing and if nothing hinder,</div> -<div class="verse">Some day he’ll taste again and prices rise.”</div> -</div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<div class="hangingindent"> -<h3 class="nobreak">3. THE OLDEST INHABITANT HEARS<br /> -FAR OFF THE DRUMS OF DEATH</h3> -</div></div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Sometimes</span> ’tis far off, and sometimes ’tis nigh,</div> -<div class="verse">Such drummerdery noises too they be!</div> -<div class="verse">’Tis odd—oh, I do hope I baint to die</div> -<div class="verse">Just as the summer months be coming on,</div> -<div class="verse">And buffly chicken out, and bumble-bee:</div> -<div class="verse">Though, to be sure, I cannot hear ’em plain</div> -<div class="verse">For this drat row as goes a-drumming on,</div> -<div class="verse">Just like a little soldier in my brain.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">And oh, I’ve heard we got to go through flame</div> -<div class="verse">And water-floods—but maybe ’tisn’t true!</div> -<div class="verse">I allus were a-frightened o’ the sea.</div> -<div class="verse">And burning fires—oh, it would be a shame</div> -<div class="verse">And all the garden ripe, and sky so blue.</div> -<div class="verse">Such drummerdery noises, too, they be.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">4. SETH BEMOANS THE OLDEST INHABITANT</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">We</span> heard as we wer passing by the forge:</div> -<div class="indent">“’Er’s dead,” said he.</div> -<div class="verse">“’Tis Providence’s doing,” so said George.</div> -<div class="verse">“He’s allus doing summat,” so I said,</div> -<div class="verse">“You see this pig; we kept un aal the year</div> -<div class="verse">Fatting un up and priding in un, see,</div> -<div class="verse">And spent a yup o’ money—food so dear!</div> -<div class="indent">I wish ’twer ’e;</div> -<div class="verse">I’d liefer our fat pig had died than she.”</div> -</div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">5. A RIVER, A PIG, AND BRAINS</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Last</span> fall, to sell his oldest perry,</div> -<div class="verse">Old Willum Fry did cross the ferry,</div> -<div class="verse">And thur inside of an old sty</div> -<div class="verse">’A seed a leanish pig did lie:</div> -<div class="verse">A rakish, active beast ’a was</div> -<div class="verse">As ever rooted up the grass:</div> -<div class="verse">Eager as bees on making honey</div> -<div class="verse">To stuff his self. Bill did decide</div> -<div class="verse">To buy un with the cider money</div> -<div class="verse">And fat un up for Easter-tide.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">He bought un, but no net ’ad got</div> -<div class="verse">To kip thic pig inside the boat.</div> -<div class="verse">“The’ll drown wi’ pig and all at ferry!”</div> -<div class="verse">Cried one. Said Fry, “Go, bring some perry,</div> -<div class="verse">And this old drinking-horn you got,</div> -<div class="verse">Lying inside the piggery cot!”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">He poured a goodish swig and soon</div> -<div class="verse">—As lazy as a day o’ June—</div> -<div class="verse">Piggy lay boozed, and so did bide</div> -<div class="verse">Snoring, while him and Fry were taken</div> -<div class="verse">’Cross Severn: and ’a didn’t waken</div> -<div class="verse">Until the boat lay safely tied</div> -<div class="verse">Up to a tree on t’other side.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">6. MARTHA BAZIN ON MARRIAGE</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">This</span> is the fourth ’un, Miss, and if so be</div> -<div class="verse">As he do die out like the t’other three,</div> -<div class="verse">I’ll take another man (if one do ask).</div> -<div class="verse">Woman and man apart be like a cask</div> -<div class="verse">Without a bung, letting Life’s cider out,</div> -<div class="verse">The Almighty made to drink withouten doubt.</div> -<div class="verse">I never could abode the thought o’ waste</div> -<div class="verse">Whether of Life or cider, fit for taste.</div> -<div class="verse">But love him, Miss, you ask?—why, that I can,</div> -<div class="verse">And thank the Lord I could love any man.</div> -</div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHILDREN"><i>CHILDREN</i></h2> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">1. LITTLE ABEL GOES TO CHURCH</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">And</span> this is what he heard</div> -<div class="verse">And saw at church:</div> -<div class="verse">Oh, a great yellow bird</div> -<div class="verse">Upon a perch—</div> -<div class="verse">Quite still upon a perch.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">And then a man in white</div> -<div class="verse">Got up and walked to it,</div> -<div class="verse">And talked to it</div> -<div class="verse">For a long while (he said);</div> -<div class="verse">But the yellow bird</div> -<div class="verse">(Although it must have heard!)</div> -<div class="verse">Never turned its head,</div> -<div class="verse">Or did anything at all</div> -<div class="verse">But look straight at the wall!</div> -<div class="verseright">(<i>A true tale.</i>)</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">2. DELIGHTS</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent2"><span class="smcap">Small</span> Marjorie</div> -<div class="indent2">In an apple-tree</div> -<div class="verse">Looks down upon the world with glee.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent2">Her brother Ted,</div> -<div class="indent2">So he has said,</div> -<div class="verse">Loves best to see the chickens fed.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">And little Charlie likes to see</div> -<div class="verse">The Thresher working hard, when he</div> -<div class="verse">Hums like a dreadful bumble-bee.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">But Ann and Martha sit together</div> -<div class="verse">Reading, however gold the weather.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">3. THE BOY WITH LITTLE BARE TOES</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">He</span> ran all down the meadow, that he did,</div> -<div class="indent">The boy with the little bare toes.</div> -<div class="verse">The flowers they smelt so sweet, so sweet,</div> -<div class="verse">And the grass it felt so funny and wet</div> -<div class="verse">And the birds sang just like this—“chereep!”</div> -<div class="indent">And the willow-trees stood in rows.</div> -<div class="indent3">“Ho! ho!”</div> -<div class="verse">Laughed the boy with the little bare toes.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Now the trees had no insides—how funny!</div> -<div class="indent">Laughed the boy with the little bare toes.</div> -<div class="verse">And he put in his hand to find some money</div> -<div class="verse">Or honey—yes, that would be best—oh, best!</div> -<div class="verse">But what do you think he found, found, found?</div> -<div class="verse">Why, six little eggs all round, round, round,</div> -<div class="verse">And a mother-bird on the nest,</div> -<div class="indent2">Oh, yes!</div> -<div class="verse">The mother-bird on her nest.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">He laughed, “Ha! ha!” and he laughed, “He! he!”</div> -<div class="indent">The boy with the little bare toes.</div> -<div class="verse">But the little mother-bird got up from her place</div> -<div class="verse">And flew right into his face, ho! ho!</div> -<div class="verse">And pecked him on the nose, “Oh! oh!”</div> -<div class="indent">Yes, pecked him right on the nose.</div> -<div class="indent3">“Boo! Boo!”</div> -<div class="verse">Cried the boy with the little bare toes.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">THE WIND IN TOWN TREES</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">What</span> is it says the breeze</div> -<div class="verse">In London streets to-day</div> -<div class="verse">Unto the troubled trees</div> -<div class="verse">Whose shadows strew the way,</div> -<div class="verse">Whose leaves are all a-flutter?</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">“You are wild!” the rascal cries.</div> -<div class="verse">The green tree beats its wings</div> -<div class="verse">And fills the air with sighs.</div> -<div class="verse">“Wild! Wild!” the rascal sings.</div> -<div class="verse">“But your feet are in the gutter!”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Men pass beneath the trees</div> -<div class="verse">Walking the pavement grey,</div> -<div class="verse">They hear the whisperings tease</div> -<div class="verse">And at the word he utters</div> -<div class="verse">Their hearts are green and gay.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Then like the gay, green trees,</div> -<div class="verse">They beat proud wings to fly,</div> -<div class="verse">But, like the fluttering trees,</div> -<div class="verse">Their footprints mark the gutters</div> -<div class="verse">Until the beggars die.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">FORM<br /> - - -<small>(<span class="smcap">A Study</span>)</small></h3> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Flower</span>-like and shy,</div> -<div class="verse">You stand, sweet mortal, at the river’s brim:</div> -<div class="verse">With what unconscious grace</div> -<div class="verse">Your limbs to some strange law surrendering</div> -<div class="verse">Which lifts you clear of our humanity!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">Now would I sacrifice</div> -<div class="verse">Your breathing, warmth, and all the strange romance</div> -<div class="verse">Of living, to a moment. Ere you break</div> -<div class="verse">The greater thing than you, I would my eyes</div> -<div class="verse">Were basilisk to turn you into stone.</div> -<div class="verse">So should you be the world’s inheritance.</div> -<div class="verse">And souls of unborn men should draw their breath</div> -<div class="verse">From mortal you, immortalised in Death.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">VILLANELLE</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">So</span> is thy music unto me,</div> -<div class="verse">As the bright moon which tides obey,</div> -<div class="verse">As the white moon upon the sea.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">And like a wind that scatters free</div> -<div class="verse">The petals of an April day,</div> -<div class="verse">So is thy music unto me.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">It falleth light and quietly</div> -<div class="verse">And sweet as summer’s petals—nay,</div> -<div class="verse">As the white moon upon the sea.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">As moonlight falling silvery</div> -<div class="verse">On waves of wild and surging grey,</div> -<div class="verse">So is thy music unto me.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">As o’er each white and ebon key</div> -<div class="verse">I watch thy silver fingers play,</div> -<div class="verse">As the white moon upon the sea,</div> -<div class="verse">On headlands of eternity</div> -<div class="verse">My soul is hurled, and dashed in spray!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">So is thy music unto me</div> -<div class="verse">As the bright moon which tides obey,</div> -<div class="verse">As the white moon upon the sea.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">KOSSOVO DAY</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">From</span> this sweet nest of peace and summer blue—</div> -<div class="verse">England in June—a sea-bird’s nest indeed</div> -<div class="verse">Guarded of waves, and hid by the sea-weed</div> -<div class="verse">From envious hunter’s eye, we send to you</div> -<div class="verse">Our flying thoughts and prayers, our treasure too,</div> -<div class="verse">Poor though it be to bandage wounds that bleed</div> -<div class="verse">For country dear beloved. There the seed</div> -<div class="verse">Of homely loves and occupations grew</div> -<div class="verse">To wither in the flame of godless might</div> -<div class="verse">Kindled by hands of treachery, yet reeking</div> -<div class="verse">With blood of friends and neighbours. Serbia, thou</div> -<div class="verse">Hast thought us careless and far off; know now</div> -<div class="verse">Thy name to us is sudden drums outspeaking</div> -<div class="verse">And tortured trumpets crying in the night!</div> -</div></div> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p><i>Note.</i>—This poem was sent from Crefeld, but was written -in England just before the author left for the front.</p> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">A PHILOSOPHY</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Only</span> in pages of men’s books I find</div> -<div class="verse">Swart villain and fair knight</div> -<div class="verse">Closing in fight.</div> -<div class="verse">Not piebald is mankind.</div> -<div class="verse">The soul is hued to such swift varying</div> -<div class="verse">As flying hornet’s sunshine-smitten wing.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Therefore, dear brother men (where’er ye be),</div> -<div class="verse">Who strive for right</div> -<div class="verse">With such short sight,</div> -<div class="verse">’Tis wise for little folk like you and me</div> -<div class="verse">Neither too much to praise nor yet to blame,</div> -<div class="verse">Since in our different ways we’re all the same.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">CONSOLATOR AFFLICTORUM</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="indent"><span class="smcap">“Must</span> ever I be so</div> -<div class="verse">—Yellow and old?” you asked,</div> -<div class="verse">“With living overtasked,</div> -<div class="verse">Ugly, and racked with pains?”</div> -<div class="verse">I answered, “Even so,</div> -<div class="verse">Dearest; yet love remains.”</div> -</div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">RECOGNITION</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">By</span> Him Who made you sweet</div> -<div class="indent">And set your eyes so wide,</div> -<div class="verse">Who suffered us to meet</div> -<div class="indent">Despite of woman’s pride,</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">And willed that we should know,</div> -<div class="indent">Despite of man’s gross sense,</div> -<div class="verse">The wonder and dawn-glow</div> -<div class="indent">Of Love’s omnipotence,—</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">By all of this I swear,</div> -<div class="indent">And by God’s self I vow,</div> -<div class="verse">We have met (I know not how)</div> -<div class="indent">Loving (I know not where):</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Perhaps in heaven above,</div> -<div class="indent">Perhaps in deep perdition.</div> -<div class="verse">And so this present love</div> -<div class="indent">Is but a recognition.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">ON OVER BRIDGE AT EVENING</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Faint</span> grow the hills, but yet the night delays</div> -<div class="verse">To blot them utterly. Below their ridge</div> -<div class="verse">Of shadow lies the city in blue haze.</div> -<div class="verse">I watch its lamps awaken, from the bridge</div> -<div class="verse">Whereunder, running strongly to the sea,</div> -<div class="verse">Water goes fleeting softly in a brown</div> -<div class="verse">Wild loveliness. In heaven two or three</div> -<div class="verse">Small stars awaken and gaze shyly down....</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">White and alluring runs the dusty road</div> -<div class="verse">Into the country, and with yellow eyes</div> -<div class="verse">A hastening car comes purring with its load:</div> -<div class="verse">Like some great owl it hoots, and then it flies</div> -<div class="verse">Past, and is swallowed up in dusk. And, singing,</div> -<div class="verse">A country girl with basket homeward wends</div> -<div class="verse">—Sweet as the dusty roses that are clinging</div> -<div class="verse">Around the cottage where her journey ends.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Night deepens, and the stars with strengthening rays</div> -<div class="verse">Thicken and go upon their lovely ways.</div> -<div class="verse">Where are the voices that have vexed us so?</div> -<div class="verse">Dear God, how quiet has Thy day become!</div> -<div class="verse">The clamorous tongues of Earth are smitten dumb,</div> -<div class="verse">Awed with the beauty that Thy work doth show.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">PASSION</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">All</span> life from passion springs.</div> -<div class="verse">In holy ecstasy</div> -<div class="verse">’Midst whir of angel-wings,</div> -<div class="verse">Did God decree</div> -<div class="verse">The golden stars that shine:</div> -<div class="verse">The flaming morn,</div> -<div class="verse">And that this flesh of mine</div> -<div class="verse">Should once be born.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">And all the works of men</div> -<div class="verse">That live indeed:</div> -<div class="verse">Joyance of sword or pen,</div> -<div class="verse">High thought or deed,</div> -<div class="verse">Are in such primal fashion</div> -<div class="verse">Contrived and wrought.</div> -<div class="verse">God grant me fire of thought</div> -<div class="verse">To work Thy will—with Passion!</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">A COMMON PETITION</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">I crave</span> not of the wonder</div> -<div class="verse">Of Thy full plan to see;</div> -<div class="verse">No secret would I plunder</div> -<div class="verse">Of guarded destiny;</div> -<div class="verse">This only grant to me:</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">To hear the rolling thunder</div> -<div class="verse">Of Life—be man alive:</div> -<div class="verse">Yet through no body’s blunder</div> -<div class="verse">To drag the bright soul under</div> -<div class="verse">—Drowned where it needs must dive.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Keeping against all Fate</div> -<div class="verse">That Thou hast given me—</div> -<div class="verse">The dual mystery</div> -<div class="verse">Of man—inviolate.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">AN ADVENTURE WITH GOD</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Far</span> worse than pain,</div> -<div class="verse">Unutterable weariness</div> -<div class="verse">Of blood and brain—</div> -<div class="verse">Intolerable dreariness</div> -<div class="verse">Of days God gave me.</div> -<div class="verse">And I bethought</div> -<div class="verse">The first fresh flood of youth that rose to leave me,</div> -<div class="verse">And how in those brave days—</div> -<div class="verse">Virgin of lust and spot—</div> -<div class="verse">I had forgot</div> -<div class="verse">To render any praise.</div> -<div class="verse">Then, as I thus looked upward through the net</div> -<div class="verse">Wherein both soul and flesh lay cunningly caught,</div> -<div class="verse">God (’twas like Springtime calling from the earth</div> -<div class="verse">The flowers to birth!)</div> -<div class="verse">Smiled down and did restore</div> -<div class="verse">All that I had before.</div> -</div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">THE STRANGER</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">It</span> happened in a blood-red hell ringed round with golden weather;</div> -<div class="verse">Walking in khaki through a trench he came,</div> -<div class="verse">When life was death, and wounded men and great shells screamed together:</div> -<div class="verse">I did not know his name.</div> -<div class="verse">But so white-faced and wan, we talked a little while together</div> -<div class="verse">Amongst dead men, and timbers black with flame.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">“What would you do with life again,” asks he, “if one could give it?”</div> -<div class="verse">“No use to talk when life is done,” I say.</div> -<div class="verse">“But, by the living God, if He should grant me life I’d live it</div> -<div class="verse">Kinder to man, truer to God each day.”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Flame and the noise of doom devoured the words, and for a while</div> -<div class="verse">Senseless I lay.... Then,</div> -<div class="verse">Oh, then as in a dream I saw the stranger with a smile</div> -<div class="verse">Moving towards me over the dead men.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Red, red were his hands and feet and a great hole in his side,</div> -<div class="verse">Yet glory seemed to blaze about his head;</div> -<div class="verse">“Kinder to man, truer to God,” he whispered, and then died;</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span> -<div class="verse">Falling down, arms outspread.</div> -<div class="verse">Ere darkness fell upon me with the faintness and the pain,</div> -<div class="verse">I saw a mangled body lying prone</div> -<div class="verse">Upon the earth beside me. But what I can’t explain</div> -<div class="verse">Is—<i>The stretcher-bearers found me quite alone</i>.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">But, howsoe’er it happened, it matters not at last,</div> -<div class="verse">Since God’s dear Son came down to earth and died</div> -<div class="verse">In bloodshed, and the darkness of clouds that groaned aghast;</div> -<div class="verse">With pierced hands and a great wound in His side.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">It is not in my heart to hate the pleasant sins I leave.</div> -<div class="verse">Earth’s passion flames within me fierce and strong.</div> -<div class="verse">But this is like a shadow ever rising up to thieve</div> -<div class="verse">Sin’s pleasures, and the lure of every pattern lust can weave,</div> -<div class="verse">And charm of all things that can do Him wrong.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<h3 class="nobreak">THE BUGLER</h3> -</div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">God</span> dreamed a man;</div> -<div class="verse">Then, having firmly shut</div> -<div class="verse">Life like a precious metal in his fist,</div> -<div class="verse">Withdrew, His labour done. Thus did begin</div> -<div class="verse">Our various divinity and sin.</div> -<div class="verse">For some to ploughshares did the metal twist,</div> -<div class="verse">And others—dreaming empires—straightway cut</div> -<div class="verse">Crowns for their aching foreheads. Others beat</div> -<div class="verse">Long nails and heavy hammers for the feet</div> -<div class="verse">Of their forgotten Lord. (Who dare to boast</div> -<div class="verse">That he is guiltless?) Others coined it: most</div> -<div class="verse">Did with it—simply nothing. (Here, again,</div> -<div class="verse">Who cries his innocence?) Yet doth remain</div> -<div class="verse">Metal unmarred, to each man more or less,</div> -<div class="verse">Whereof to fashion perfect loveliness.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">For me, I do but bear within my hand</div> -<div class="verse">(For sake of Him our Lord, now long forsaken)</div> -<div class="verse">A simple bugle such as may awaken</div> -<div class="verse">With one high morning note a drowsing man:</div> -<div class="verse">That wheresoe’er within my motherland</div> -<div class="verse">The sound may come, ’twill echo far and wide</div> -<div class="verse">Like pipes of battle calling up a clan,</div> -<div class="verse">Trumpeting men through beauty to God’s side.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<p class="center"> -PRINTED BY<br /> -HAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD.,<br /> -LONDON AND AYLESBURY.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="transnote"> -<p class="ph2">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE:</p> - -<p>The cover image for this eBook was created by the transcriber and is entered into the public domain.</p> -</div></div> - - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GLOUCESTERSHIRE FRIENDS: POEMS FROM A GERMAN PRISON CAMP ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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