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-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 ***

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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 66362 ***
+
+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 66362 ***
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-<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>

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-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and

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-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms

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-<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>&#8220;The secret of Mr. Harvey&#8217;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.&#8221;&mdash;Bishop Frodsham

-in <i>The Saturday Review</i>.</p>

-

-<p>&#8220;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.&#8221;&mdash;E.

-B. O. in <i>The Morning Post</i>.</p>

-</div>

-

-

-<p class="center">London: Sidgwick &amp; 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 />

-&#8220;A Gloucestershire Lad at Home and Abroad&#8221;</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 &amp; 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>&nbsp;</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&mdash;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&#8217; 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&mdash;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>&nbsp;</p>

-<p>&#8220;<span class="smcap">Good</span> wine needs no bush.&#8221; Those who know and

-love &#8220;A Gloucestershire Lad&#8221; would resent any

-lengthy attempt to praise the quality of Lieutenant

-Harvey&#8217;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 &#8220;The Bugler&#8221; grip one by

-the throat. But all the verses have a sweetness and

-beauty entirely their own.</p>

-

-<p>The poems are all short&mdash;too short. Lieutenant

-Harvey sings like the wild birds of his own dear

-Gloucestershire because he cannot help doing so.

-He stops short&mdash;as they do&mdash;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&mdash;and such a cage! An agony of inarticulate

-longing shrills in a feathered cageling&#8217;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&#8217;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

-&#8220;woo bright danger for a thrilling kiss&#8221;? 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&#8217;s desire he is so kindly withal, so modest, so

-humorous, and, to use his own words of another, &#8220;so

-worldly foolish, so divinely wise.&#8221; 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&#8217;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 G&uuml;tersloh, 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&#8217;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&mdash;</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&#8217;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 bless&egrave;d light</div>

-<div class="verse">Was God&#8217;s own moon to shine upon my night,</div>

-<div class="verse">And newly mourn each new day&#8217;s lost delight:</div>

-<div class="verse">Just&mdash;oh, it will not ease my pain&mdash;</div>

-<div class="indent2">That I am lonely</div>

-<div class="indent2">Until I see you once again,</div>

-<div class="indent2">You&mdash;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&mdash;rust upon the chill breeze&mdash;</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&mdash;</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&mdash;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&mdash;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,&mdash;</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&#8217;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,&mdash;</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&#8217;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:&mdash;</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&#8217;s will:</div>

-<div class="indent">Went gravely out&mdash;well knowing what you did</div>

-<div class="indent2">And hating it&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;</div>

-<div class="verse">Nay, a grave sunbeam&mdash;<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&#8217;m kneeling</div>

-<div class="verse">To take the Blessed Sacrifice that weaves</div>

-<div class="verse">Life&#8217;s tangled threads, so broken to man&#8217;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&mdash;how long ago!&mdash;</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&mdash;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?&mdash;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&#8217;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, &#8217;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&#8217;s thoughts to gold</div>

-<div class="verse">And Cinderella&#8217;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&#8217;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">&nbsp;<span class="smcap"> K ings</span> of the East did bring their gold</div>

-<div class="verse">&nbsp; A nd jewels unto the cattle fold.</div>

-<div class="verse">&nbsp; T he angel&#8217;s song was heard by men</div>

-<div class="verse">&#8220;H oly! holy! holy!&#8221; then.</div>

-<div class="verse">&nbsp; L ittle and weak in the manger He lay</div>

-<div class="verse">&nbsp; E ven as you in a cradle to-day;</div>

-<div class="verse">&nbsp; E ven as you did the Christ-child rest</div>

-<div class="verse">&nbsp; N estling warm in His mother&#8217;s breast.</div>

-</div>

-<div class="stanza">

-<div class="indent"><span class="smcap">G&uuml;tersloh</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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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: &#8220;Not peace I bring you, but the sword!&#8221;</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">&#8220;Good morrow, and despair not, foolish one!&#8221;</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">&#8220;Oh, I have had fine visitors to-day!&#8221;</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 C&aelig;sar&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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 &#8220;great men&#8221; 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&#8217;s robes, come clear and plaintively</div>

-<div class="verse">Voices for ever to my listening ear</div>

-<div class="indent">Which cry, &#8220;Not yet is finished England&#8217;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!&#8221;</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&mdash;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&#8217;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&#8217; 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&#8217; 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&mdash;</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&#8217; 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&#8217; 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&#8217;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&mdash;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:&mdash;</div>

-<div class="verse">Say, swim the Channel, climb St. Paul&#8217;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&#8217;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.&#8217;s with their loads.</div>

-<div class="verse">Then, when they&#8217;ve done it all, you give &#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;ve got to go.</div>

-<div class="verse">They&#8217;re very useful people, and it&#8217;s pretty plain to see</div>

-<div class="verse">We couldn&#8217;t do without &#8217;em, nor yet the A.P.C.</div>

-<div class="verse">But comparing risks and wages,&mdash;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&mdash;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 &#8220;keep the home fires burning&#8221; 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&#8217;s harder to make big shells at a bench,</div>

-<div class="verse">Than to face the screaming beggars when they&#8217;re crumping up a trench;</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span>

-<div class="verse">I wonder if it&#8217;s harder to sing in mellow tones</div>

-<div class="verse">Of danger, than to face it&mdash;say, in a wood like Trone&#8217;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&#8217;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 &#8217;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&#8217;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 &#8220;Old Nick&#8221;&mdash;</div>

-<div class="verse">The Devil, yet a gentleman you know!</div>

-<div class="verse">Relentless&mdash;true, yet courteous to a foe.</div>

-<div class="verse">Man&#8217;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, &#8220;Krieg ist Krieg,&#8221; we know, and &#8220;C&#8217;est la guerre!&#8221;</div>

-<div class="verse">But Satan, don&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;d see you not. Life&#8217;s wisdom is</div>

-<div class="verse">To keep one&#8217;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">&mdash;A pessimist&mdash;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&#8217;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">&#8220;Bow-wow!</span> Bow-wow!&#8221; See how he bounds and prances,</div>

-<div class="verse">&#8220;<i>Wow!</i>&#8221; races off, returns again and dances&mdash;</div>

-<div class="verse">A little wave of sunshine and brown fur&mdash;</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&mdash;she gazes quaintly up</div>

-<div class="verse">To laugh dog-fashion at me. &#8220;What a pup,</div>

-<div class="verse">Master!&#8221; she seems to say: then, like a wave,</div>

-<div class="verse">He&#8217;s down on her again&mdash;&#8220;Oh, master, see,</div>

-<div class="verse">I&#8217;m growing old.... What spirits youngsters have!&#8221;</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&#8217;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&mdash;we won&#8217;t ask why&mdash;</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&mdash;</div>

-<div class="verse">Came trooping through the moonlight glory</div>

-<div class="verse">Hundreds and scores of&mdash;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&mdash;&#8217;twas fit to pierce</div>

-<div class="verse">The ear o&#8217; the dead&mdash;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">&#8220;Aye</span>, sure, it&#8217;s pretty fish, but there&#8217;s no sale</div>

-<div class="verse">Nowadays.&#8221; &#8220;Why?&#8221; &#8220;Well, the story that they tell</div>

-<div class="verse">Is, as the king were very fond on &#8217;em,</div>

-<div class="verse">And all the fashion ate and paid up well.</div>

-<div class="verse">And then one day our king&mdash;so goes the tale&mdash;</div>

-<div class="verse">Ate over-hearty-like and throwed &#8217;em up.</div>

-<div class="verse">So all the fashion with him when he dined</div>

-<div class="verse">Cut out their orders,&mdash;and the price cum down.</div>

-<div class="verse">And maybe that be true, for still in town</div>

-<div class="verse">Our council&mdash;scheming, likely, to remind</div>

-<div class="verse">His Majesty of joys he left behind&mdash;</div>

-<div class="verse">Sends un the very prince o&#8217; lamprey pies</div>

-<div class="verse">(I&#8217;ve seen un many a while in Fisher&#8217;s winder)</div>

-<div class="verse">And so, God willing and if nothing hinder,</div>

-<div class="verse">Some day he&#8217;ll taste again and prices rise.&#8221;</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> &#8217;tis far off, and sometimes &#8217;tis nigh,</div>

-<div class="verse">Such drummerdery noises too they be!</div>

-<div class="verse">&#8217;Tis odd&mdash;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 &#8217;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&#8217;ve heard we got to go through flame</div>

-<div class="verse">And water-floods&mdash;but maybe &#8217;tisn&#8217;t true!</div>

-<div class="verse">I allus were a-frightened o&#8217; the sea.</div>

-<div class="verse">And burning fires&mdash;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">&#8220;&#8217;Er&#8217;s dead,&#8221; said he.</div>

-<div class="verse">&#8220;&#8217;Tis Providence&#8217;s doing,&#8221; so said George.</div>

-<div class="verse">&#8220;He&#8217;s allus doing summat,&#8221; so I said,</div>

-<div class="verse">&#8220;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&#8217; money&mdash;food so dear!</div>

-<div class="indent">I wish &#8217;twer &#8217;e;</div>

-<div class="verse">I&#8217;d liefer our fat pig had died than she.&#8221;</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">&#8217;A seed a leanish pig did lie:</div>

-<div class="verse">A rakish, active beast &#8217;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 &#8217;ad got</div>

-<div class="verse">To kip thic pig inside the boat.</div>

-<div class="verse">&#8220;The&#8217;ll drown wi&#8217; pig and all at ferry!&#8221;</div>

-<div class="verse">Cried one. Said Fry, &#8220;Go, bring some perry,</div>

-<div class="verse">And this old drinking-horn you got,</div>

-<div class="verse">Lying inside the piggery cot!&#8221;</div>

-</div>

-<div class="stanza">

-<div class="verse">He poured a goodish swig and soon</div>

-<div class="verse">&mdash;As lazy as a day o&#8217; June&mdash;</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">&#8217;Cross Severn: and &#8217;a didn&#8217;t waken</div>

-<div class="verse">Until the boat lay safely tied</div>

-<div class="verse">Up to a tree on t&#8217;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 &#8217;un, Miss, and if so be</div>

-<div class="verse">As he do die out like the t&#8217;other three,</div>

-<div class="verse">I&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217; waste</div>

-<div class="verse">Whether of Life or cider, fit for taste.</div>

-<div class="verse">But love him, Miss, you ask?&mdash;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&mdash;</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&mdash;&#8220;chereep!&#8221;</div>

-<div class="indent">And the willow-trees stood in rows.</div>

-<div class="indent3">&#8220;Ho! ho!&#8221;</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&mdash;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&mdash;yes, that would be best&mdash;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, &#8220;Ha! ha!&#8221; and he laughed, &#8220;He! he!&#8221;</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, &#8220;Oh! oh!&#8221;</div>

-<div class="indent">Yes, pecked him right on the nose.</div>

-<div class="indent3">&#8220;Boo! Boo!&#8221;</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">&#8220;You are wild!&#8221; 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">&#8220;Wild! Wild!&#8221; the rascal sings.</div>

-<div class="verse">&#8220;But your feet are in the gutter!&#8221;</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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;s petals&mdash;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&#8217;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&mdash;</div>

-<div class="verse">England in June&mdash;a sea-bird&#8217;s nest indeed</div>

-<div class="verse">Guarded of waves, and hid by the sea-weed</div>

-<div class="verse">From envious hunter&#8217;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>&mdash;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&#8217;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&#8217;s sunshine-smitten wing.</div>

-</div>

-<div class="stanza">

-<div class="verse">Therefore, dear brother men (where&#8217;er ye be),</div>

-<div class="verse">Who strive for right</div>

-<div class="verse">With such short sight,</div>

-<div class="verse">&#8217;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&#8217;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">&#8220;Must</span> ever I be so</div>

-<div class="verse">&mdash;Yellow and old?&#8221; you asked,</div>

-<div class="verse">&#8220;With living overtasked,</div>

-<div class="verse">Ugly, and racked with pains?&#8221;</div>

-<div class="verse">I answered, &#8220;Even so,</div>

-<div class="verse">Dearest; yet love remains.&#8221;</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&#8217;s pride,</div>

-</div>

-<div class="stanza">

-<div class="verse">And willed that we should know,</div>

-<div class="indent">Despite of man&#8217;s gross sense,</div>

-<div class="verse">The wonder and dawn-glow</div>

-<div class="indent">Of Love&#8217;s omnipotence,&mdash;</div>

-</div>

-<div class="stanza">

-<div class="verse">By all of this I swear,</div>

-<div class="indent">And by God&#8217;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">&mdash;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">&#8217;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&mdash;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&mdash;be man alive:</div>

-<div class="verse">Yet through no body&#8217;s blunder</div>

-<div class="verse">To drag the bright soul under</div>

-<div class="verse">&mdash;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&mdash;</div>

-<div class="verse">The dual mystery</div>

-<div class="verse">Of man&mdash;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&mdash;</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&mdash;</div>

-<div class="verse">Virgin of lust and spot&mdash;</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 (&#8217;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">&#8220;What would you do with life again,&#8221; asks he, &#8220;if one could give it?&#8221;</div>

-<div class="verse">&#8220;No use to talk when life is done,&#8221; I say.</div>

-<div class="verse">&#8220;But, by the living God, if He should grant me life I&#8217;d live it</div>

-<div class="verse">Kinder to man, truer to God each day.&#8221;</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">&#8220;Kinder to man, truer to God,&#8221; 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&#8217;t explain</div>

-<div class="verse">Is&mdash;<i>The stretcher-bearers found me quite alone</i>.</div>

-</div>

-<div class="stanza">

-<div class="verse">But, howsoe&#8217;er it happened, it matters not at last,</div>

-<div class="verse">Since God&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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" />

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-<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&mdash;dreaming empires&mdash;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&mdash;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&#8217;er within my motherland</div>

-<div class="verse">The sound may come, &#8217;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&#8217;s side.</div>

-</div></div></div>

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+  </head>
+<body>
+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 66362 ***</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>&#8220;The secret of Mr. Harvey&#8217;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.&#8221;&mdash;Bishop Frodsham
+in <i>The Saturday Review</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;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.&#8221;&mdash;E.
+B. O. in <i>The Morning Post</i>.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="center">London: Sidgwick &amp; 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 />
+&#8220;A Gloucestershire Lad at Home and Abroad&#8221;</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 &amp; 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>&nbsp;</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&mdash;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&#8217; 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&mdash;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>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&#8220;<span class="smcap">Good</span> wine needs no bush.&#8221; Those who know and
+love &#8220;A Gloucestershire Lad&#8221; would resent any
+lengthy attempt to praise the quality of Lieutenant
+Harvey&#8217;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 &#8220;The Bugler&#8221; grip one by
+the throat. But all the verses have a sweetness and
+beauty entirely their own.</p>
+
+<p>The poems are all short&mdash;too short. Lieutenant
+Harvey sings like the wild birds of his own dear
+Gloucestershire because he cannot help doing so.
+He stops short&mdash;as they do&mdash;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&mdash;and such a cage! An agony of inarticulate
+longing shrills in a feathered cageling&#8217;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&#8217;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
+&#8220;woo bright danger for a thrilling kiss&#8221;? 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&#8217;s desire he is so kindly withal, so modest, so
+humorous, and, to use his own words of another, &#8220;so
+worldly foolish, so divinely wise.&#8221; 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&#8217;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 G&uuml;tersloh, 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&#8217;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&mdash;</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&#8217;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 bless&egrave;d light</div>
+<div class="verse">Was God&#8217;s own moon to shine upon my night,</div>
+<div class="verse">And newly mourn each new day&#8217;s lost delight:</div>
+<div class="verse">Just&mdash;oh, it will not ease my pain&mdash;</div>
+<div class="indent2">That I am lonely</div>
+<div class="indent2">Until I see you once again,</div>
+<div class="indent2">You&mdash;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&mdash;rust upon the chill breeze&mdash;</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&mdash;</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&mdash;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&mdash;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,&mdash;</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&#8217;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,&mdash;</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&#8217;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:&mdash;</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&#8217;s will:</div>
+<div class="indent">Went gravely out&mdash;well knowing what you did</div>
+<div class="indent2">And hating it&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;</div>
+<div class="verse">Nay, a grave sunbeam&mdash;<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&#8217;m kneeling</div>
+<div class="verse">To take the Blessed Sacrifice that weaves</div>
+<div class="verse">Life&#8217;s tangled threads, so broken to man&#8217;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&mdash;how long ago!&mdash;</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&mdash;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?&mdash;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&#8217;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, &#8217;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&#8217;s thoughts to gold</div>
+<div class="verse">And Cinderella&#8217;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&#8217;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">&nbsp;<span class="smcap"> K ings</span> of the East did bring their gold</div>
+<div class="verse">&nbsp; A nd jewels unto the cattle fold.</div>
+<div class="verse">&nbsp; T he angel&#8217;s song was heard by men</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8220;H oly! holy! holy!&#8221; then.</div>
+<div class="verse">&nbsp; L ittle and weak in the manger He lay</div>
+<div class="verse">&nbsp; E ven as you in a cradle to-day;</div>
+<div class="verse">&nbsp; E ven as you did the Christ-child rest</div>
+<div class="verse">&nbsp; N estling warm in His mother&#8217;s breast.</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="indent"><span class="smcap">G&uuml;tersloh</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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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: &#8220;Not peace I bring you, but the sword!&#8221;</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">&#8220;Good morrow, and despair not, foolish one!&#8221;</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">&#8220;Oh, I have had fine visitors to-day!&#8221;</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 C&aelig;sar&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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 &#8220;great men&#8221; 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&#8217;s robes, come clear and plaintively</div>
+<div class="verse">Voices for ever to my listening ear</div>
+<div class="indent">Which cry, &#8220;Not yet is finished England&#8217;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!&#8221;</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&mdash;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&#8217;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&#8217; 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&#8217; 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&mdash;</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&#8217; 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&#8217; 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&#8217;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&mdash;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:&mdash;</div>
+<div class="verse">Say, swim the Channel, climb St. Paul&#8217;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&#8217;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.&#8217;s with their loads.</div>
+<div class="verse">Then, when they&#8217;ve done it all, you give &#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;ve got to go.</div>
+<div class="verse">They&#8217;re very useful people, and it&#8217;s pretty plain to see</div>
+<div class="verse">We couldn&#8217;t do without &#8217;em, nor yet the A.P.C.</div>
+<div class="verse">But comparing risks and wages,&mdash;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&mdash;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 &#8220;keep the home fires burning&#8221; 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&#8217;s harder to make big shells at a bench,</div>
+<div class="verse">Than to face the screaming beggars when they&#8217;re crumping up a trench;</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span>
+<div class="verse">I wonder if it&#8217;s harder to sing in mellow tones</div>
+<div class="verse">Of danger, than to face it&mdash;say, in a wood like Trone&#8217;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&#8217;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 &#8217;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&#8217;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 &#8220;Old Nick&#8221;&mdash;</div>
+<div class="verse">The Devil, yet a gentleman you know!</div>
+<div class="verse">Relentless&mdash;true, yet courteous to a foe.</div>
+<div class="verse">Man&#8217;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, &#8220;Krieg ist Krieg,&#8221; we know, and &#8220;C&#8217;est la guerre!&#8221;</div>
+<div class="verse">But Satan, don&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;d see you not. Life&#8217;s wisdom is</div>
+<div class="verse">To keep one&#8217;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">&mdash;A pessimist&mdash;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&#8217;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">&#8220;Bow-wow!</span> Bow-wow!&#8221; See how he bounds and prances,</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8220;<i>Wow!</i>&#8221; races off, returns again and dances&mdash;</div>
+<div class="verse">A little wave of sunshine and brown fur&mdash;</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&mdash;she gazes quaintly up</div>
+<div class="verse">To laugh dog-fashion at me. &#8220;What a pup,</div>
+<div class="verse">Master!&#8221; she seems to say: then, like a wave,</div>
+<div class="verse">He&#8217;s down on her again&mdash;&#8220;Oh, master, see,</div>
+<div class="verse">I&#8217;m growing old.... What spirits youngsters have!&#8221;</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&#8217;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&mdash;we won&#8217;t ask why&mdash;</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&mdash;</div>
+<div class="verse">Came trooping through the moonlight glory</div>
+<div class="verse">Hundreds and scores of&mdash;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&mdash;&#8217;twas fit to pierce</div>
+<div class="verse">The ear o&#8217; the dead&mdash;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">&#8220;Aye</span>, sure, it&#8217;s pretty fish, but there&#8217;s no sale</div>
+<div class="verse">Nowadays.&#8221; &#8220;Why?&#8221; &#8220;Well, the story that they tell</div>
+<div class="verse">Is, as the king were very fond on &#8217;em,</div>
+<div class="verse">And all the fashion ate and paid up well.</div>
+<div class="verse">And then one day our king&mdash;so goes the tale&mdash;</div>
+<div class="verse">Ate over-hearty-like and throwed &#8217;em up.</div>
+<div class="verse">So all the fashion with him when he dined</div>
+<div class="verse">Cut out their orders,&mdash;and the price cum down.</div>
+<div class="verse">And maybe that be true, for still in town</div>
+<div class="verse">Our council&mdash;scheming, likely, to remind</div>
+<div class="verse">His Majesty of joys he left behind&mdash;</div>
+<div class="verse">Sends un the very prince o&#8217; lamprey pies</div>
+<div class="verse">(I&#8217;ve seen un many a while in Fisher&#8217;s winder)</div>
+<div class="verse">And so, God willing and if nothing hinder,</div>
+<div class="verse">Some day he&#8217;ll taste again and prices rise.&#8221;</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> &#8217;tis far off, and sometimes &#8217;tis nigh,</div>
+<div class="verse">Such drummerdery noises too they be!</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8217;Tis odd&mdash;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 &#8217;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&#8217;ve heard we got to go through flame</div>
+<div class="verse">And water-floods&mdash;but maybe &#8217;tisn&#8217;t true!</div>
+<div class="verse">I allus were a-frightened o&#8217; the sea.</div>
+<div class="verse">And burning fires&mdash;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">&#8220;&#8217;Er&#8217;s dead,&#8221; said he.</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8220;&#8217;Tis Providence&#8217;s doing,&#8221; so said George.</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8220;He&#8217;s allus doing summat,&#8221; so I said,</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8220;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&#8217; money&mdash;food so dear!</div>
+<div class="indent">I wish &#8217;twer &#8217;e;</div>
+<div class="verse">I&#8217;d liefer our fat pig had died than she.&#8221;</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">&#8217;A seed a leanish pig did lie:</div>
+<div class="verse">A rakish, active beast &#8217;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 &#8217;ad got</div>
+<div class="verse">To kip thic pig inside the boat.</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8220;The&#8217;ll drown wi&#8217; pig and all at ferry!&#8221;</div>
+<div class="verse">Cried one. Said Fry, &#8220;Go, bring some perry,</div>
+<div class="verse">And this old drinking-horn you got,</div>
+<div class="verse">Lying inside the piggery cot!&#8221;</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">He poured a goodish swig and soon</div>
+<div class="verse">&mdash;As lazy as a day o&#8217; June&mdash;</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">&#8217;Cross Severn: and &#8217;a didn&#8217;t waken</div>
+<div class="verse">Until the boat lay safely tied</div>
+<div class="verse">Up to a tree on t&#8217;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 &#8217;un, Miss, and if so be</div>
+<div class="verse">As he do die out like the t&#8217;other three,</div>
+<div class="verse">I&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217; waste</div>
+<div class="verse">Whether of Life or cider, fit for taste.</div>
+<div class="verse">But love him, Miss, you ask?&mdash;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&mdash;</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&mdash;&#8220;chereep!&#8221;</div>
+<div class="indent">And the willow-trees stood in rows.</div>
+<div class="indent3">&#8220;Ho! ho!&#8221;</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&mdash;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&mdash;yes, that would be best&mdash;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, &#8220;Ha! ha!&#8221; and he laughed, &#8220;He! he!&#8221;</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, &#8220;Oh! oh!&#8221;</div>
+<div class="indent">Yes, pecked him right on the nose.</div>
+<div class="indent3">&#8220;Boo! Boo!&#8221;</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">&#8220;You are wild!&#8221; 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">&#8220;Wild! Wild!&#8221; the rascal sings.</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8220;But your feet are in the gutter!&#8221;</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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;s petals&mdash;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&#8217;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&mdash;</div>
+<div class="verse">England in June&mdash;a sea-bird&#8217;s nest indeed</div>
+<div class="verse">Guarded of waves, and hid by the sea-weed</div>
+<div class="verse">From envious hunter&#8217;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>&mdash;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&#8217;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&#8217;s sunshine-smitten wing.</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">Therefore, dear brother men (where&#8217;er ye be),</div>
+<div class="verse">Who strive for right</div>
+<div class="verse">With such short sight,</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8217;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&#8217;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">&#8220;Must</span> ever I be so</div>
+<div class="verse">&mdash;Yellow and old?&#8221; you asked,</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8220;With living overtasked,</div>
+<div class="verse">Ugly, and racked with pains?&#8221;</div>
+<div class="verse">I answered, &#8220;Even so,</div>
+<div class="verse">Dearest; yet love remains.&#8221;</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&#8217;s pride,</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">And willed that we should know,</div>
+<div class="indent">Despite of man&#8217;s gross sense,</div>
+<div class="verse">The wonder and dawn-glow</div>
+<div class="indent">Of Love&#8217;s omnipotence,&mdash;</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">By all of this I swear,</div>
+<div class="indent">And by God&#8217;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">&mdash;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">&#8217;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&mdash;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&mdash;be man alive:</div>
+<div class="verse">Yet through no body&#8217;s blunder</div>
+<div class="verse">To drag the bright soul under</div>
+<div class="verse">&mdash;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&mdash;</div>
+<div class="verse">The dual mystery</div>
+<div class="verse">Of man&mdash;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&mdash;</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&mdash;</div>
+<div class="verse">Virgin of lust and spot&mdash;</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 (&#8217;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">&#8220;What would you do with life again,&#8221; asks he, &#8220;if one could give it?&#8221;</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8220;No use to talk when life is done,&#8221; I say.</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8220;But, by the living God, if He should grant me life I&#8217;d live it</div>
+<div class="verse">Kinder to man, truer to God each day.&#8221;</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">&#8220;Kinder to man, truer to God,&#8221; 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&#8217;t explain</div>
+<div class="verse">Is&mdash;<i>The stretcher-bearers found me quite alone</i>.</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">But, howsoe&#8217;er it happened, it matters not at last,</div>
+<div class="verse">Since God&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&mdash;dreaming empires&mdash;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&mdash;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&#8217;er within my motherland</div>
+<div class="verse">The sound may come, &#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 66362 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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+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
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+<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>&#8220;The secret of Mr. Harvey&#8217;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.&#8221;&mdash;Bishop Frodsham
+in <i>The Saturday Review</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;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.&#8221;&mdash;E.
+B. O. in <i>The Morning Post</i>.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="center">London: Sidgwick &amp; 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 />
+&#8220;A Gloucestershire Lad at Home and Abroad&#8221;</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 &amp; 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>&nbsp;</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&mdash;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&#8217; 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&mdash;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>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&#8220;<span class="smcap">Good</span> wine needs no bush.&#8221; Those who know and
+love &#8220;A Gloucestershire Lad&#8221; would resent any
+lengthy attempt to praise the quality of Lieutenant
+Harvey&#8217;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 &#8220;The Bugler&#8221; grip one by
+the throat. But all the verses have a sweetness and
+beauty entirely their own.</p>
+
+<p>The poems are all short&mdash;too short. Lieutenant
+Harvey sings like the wild birds of his own dear
+Gloucestershire because he cannot help doing so.
+He stops short&mdash;as they do&mdash;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&mdash;and such a cage! An agony of inarticulate
+longing shrills in a feathered cageling&#8217;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&#8217;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
+&#8220;woo bright danger for a thrilling kiss&#8221;? 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&#8217;s desire he is so kindly withal, so modest, so
+humorous, and, to use his own words of another, &#8220;so
+worldly foolish, so divinely wise.&#8221; 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&#8217;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 G&uuml;tersloh, 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&#8217;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&mdash;</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&#8217;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 bless&egrave;d light</div>
+<div class="verse">Was God&#8217;s own moon to shine upon my night,</div>
+<div class="verse">And newly mourn each new day&#8217;s lost delight:</div>
+<div class="verse">Just&mdash;oh, it will not ease my pain&mdash;</div>
+<div class="indent2">That I am lonely</div>
+<div class="indent2">Until I see you once again,</div>
+<div class="indent2">You&mdash;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&mdash;rust upon the chill breeze&mdash;</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&mdash;</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&mdash;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&mdash;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,&mdash;</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&#8217;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,&mdash;</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&#8217;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:&mdash;</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&#8217;s will:</div>
+<div class="indent">Went gravely out&mdash;well knowing what you did</div>
+<div class="indent2">And hating it&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;</div>
+<div class="verse">Nay, a grave sunbeam&mdash;<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&#8217;m kneeling</div>
+<div class="verse">To take the Blessed Sacrifice that weaves</div>
+<div class="verse">Life&#8217;s tangled threads, so broken to man&#8217;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&mdash;how long ago!&mdash;</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&mdash;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?&mdash;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&#8217;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, &#8217;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&#8217;s thoughts to gold</div>
+<div class="verse">And Cinderella&#8217;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&#8217;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">&nbsp;<span class="smcap"> K ings</span> of the East did bring their gold</div>
+<div class="verse">&nbsp; A nd jewels unto the cattle fold.</div>
+<div class="verse">&nbsp; T he angel&#8217;s song was heard by men</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8220;H oly! holy! holy!&#8221; then.</div>
+<div class="verse">&nbsp; L ittle and weak in the manger He lay</div>
+<div class="verse">&nbsp; E ven as you in a cradle to-day;</div>
+<div class="verse">&nbsp; E ven as you did the Christ-child rest</div>
+<div class="verse">&nbsp; N estling warm in His mother&#8217;s breast.</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="indent"><span class="smcap">G&uuml;tersloh</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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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: &#8220;Not peace I bring you, but the sword!&#8221;</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">&#8220;Good morrow, and despair not, foolish one!&#8221;</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">&#8220;Oh, I have had fine visitors to-day!&#8221;</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 C&aelig;sar&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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 &#8220;great men&#8221; 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&#8217;s robes, come clear and plaintively</div>
+<div class="verse">Voices for ever to my listening ear</div>
+<div class="indent">Which cry, &#8220;Not yet is finished England&#8217;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!&#8221;</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&mdash;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&#8217;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&#8217; 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&#8217; 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&mdash;</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&#8217; 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&#8217; 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&#8217;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&mdash;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:&mdash;</div>
+<div class="verse">Say, swim the Channel, climb St. Paul&#8217;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&#8217;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.&#8217;s with their loads.</div>
+<div class="verse">Then, when they&#8217;ve done it all, you give &#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;ve got to go.</div>
+<div class="verse">They&#8217;re very useful people, and it&#8217;s pretty plain to see</div>
+<div class="verse">We couldn&#8217;t do without &#8217;em, nor yet the A.P.C.</div>
+<div class="verse">But comparing risks and wages,&mdash;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&mdash;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 &#8220;keep the home fires burning&#8221; 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&#8217;s harder to make big shells at a bench,</div>
+<div class="verse">Than to face the screaming beggars when they&#8217;re crumping up a trench;</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span>
+<div class="verse">I wonder if it&#8217;s harder to sing in mellow tones</div>
+<div class="verse">Of danger, than to face it&mdash;say, in a wood like Trone&#8217;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&#8217;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 &#8217;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&#8217;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 &#8220;Old Nick&#8221;&mdash;</div>
+<div class="verse">The Devil, yet a gentleman you know!</div>
+<div class="verse">Relentless&mdash;true, yet courteous to a foe.</div>
+<div class="verse">Man&#8217;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, &#8220;Krieg ist Krieg,&#8221; we know, and &#8220;C&#8217;est la guerre!&#8221;</div>
+<div class="verse">But Satan, don&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;d see you not. Life&#8217;s wisdom is</div>
+<div class="verse">To keep one&#8217;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">&mdash;A pessimist&mdash;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&#8217;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">&#8220;Bow-wow!</span> Bow-wow!&#8221; See how he bounds and prances,</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8220;<i>Wow!</i>&#8221; races off, returns again and dances&mdash;</div>
+<div class="verse">A little wave of sunshine and brown fur&mdash;</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&mdash;she gazes quaintly up</div>
+<div class="verse">To laugh dog-fashion at me. &#8220;What a pup,</div>
+<div class="verse">Master!&#8221; she seems to say: then, like a wave,</div>
+<div class="verse">He&#8217;s down on her again&mdash;&#8220;Oh, master, see,</div>
+<div class="verse">I&#8217;m growing old.... What spirits youngsters have!&#8221;</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&#8217;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&mdash;we won&#8217;t ask why&mdash;</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&mdash;</div>
+<div class="verse">Came trooping through the moonlight glory</div>
+<div class="verse">Hundreds and scores of&mdash;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&mdash;&#8217;twas fit to pierce</div>
+<div class="verse">The ear o&#8217; the dead&mdash;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">&#8220;Aye</span>, sure, it&#8217;s pretty fish, but there&#8217;s no sale</div>
+<div class="verse">Nowadays.&#8221; &#8220;Why?&#8221; &#8220;Well, the story that they tell</div>
+<div class="verse">Is, as the king were very fond on &#8217;em,</div>
+<div class="verse">And all the fashion ate and paid up well.</div>
+<div class="verse">And then one day our king&mdash;so goes the tale&mdash;</div>
+<div class="verse">Ate over-hearty-like and throwed &#8217;em up.</div>
+<div class="verse">So all the fashion with him when he dined</div>
+<div class="verse">Cut out their orders,&mdash;and the price cum down.</div>
+<div class="verse">And maybe that be true, for still in town</div>
+<div class="verse">Our council&mdash;scheming, likely, to remind</div>
+<div class="verse">His Majesty of joys he left behind&mdash;</div>
+<div class="verse">Sends un the very prince o&#8217; lamprey pies</div>
+<div class="verse">(I&#8217;ve seen un many a while in Fisher&#8217;s winder)</div>
+<div class="verse">And so, God willing and if nothing hinder,</div>
+<div class="verse">Some day he&#8217;ll taste again and prices rise.&#8221;</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> &#8217;tis far off, and sometimes &#8217;tis nigh,</div>
+<div class="verse">Such drummerdery noises too they be!</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8217;Tis odd&mdash;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 &#8217;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&#8217;ve heard we got to go through flame</div>
+<div class="verse">And water-floods&mdash;but maybe &#8217;tisn&#8217;t true!</div>
+<div class="verse">I allus were a-frightened o&#8217; the sea.</div>
+<div class="verse">And burning fires&mdash;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">&#8220;&#8217;Er&#8217;s dead,&#8221; said he.</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8220;&#8217;Tis Providence&#8217;s doing,&#8221; so said George.</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8220;He&#8217;s allus doing summat,&#8221; so I said,</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8220;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&#8217; money&mdash;food so dear!</div>
+<div class="indent">I wish &#8217;twer &#8217;e;</div>
+<div class="verse">I&#8217;d liefer our fat pig had died than she.&#8221;</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">&#8217;A seed a leanish pig did lie:</div>
+<div class="verse">A rakish, active beast &#8217;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 &#8217;ad got</div>
+<div class="verse">To kip thic pig inside the boat.</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8220;The&#8217;ll drown wi&#8217; pig and all at ferry!&#8221;</div>
+<div class="verse">Cried one. Said Fry, &#8220;Go, bring some perry,</div>
+<div class="verse">And this old drinking-horn you got,</div>
+<div class="verse">Lying inside the piggery cot!&#8221;</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">He poured a goodish swig and soon</div>
+<div class="verse">&mdash;As lazy as a day o&#8217; June&mdash;</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">&#8217;Cross Severn: and &#8217;a didn&#8217;t waken</div>
+<div class="verse">Until the boat lay safely tied</div>
+<div class="verse">Up to a tree on t&#8217;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 &#8217;un, Miss, and if so be</div>
+<div class="verse">As he do die out like the t&#8217;other three,</div>
+<div class="verse">I&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217; waste</div>
+<div class="verse">Whether of Life or cider, fit for taste.</div>
+<div class="verse">But love him, Miss, you ask?&mdash;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&mdash;</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&mdash;&#8220;chereep!&#8221;</div>
+<div class="indent">And the willow-trees stood in rows.</div>
+<div class="indent3">&#8220;Ho! ho!&#8221;</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&mdash;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&mdash;yes, that would be best&mdash;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, &#8220;Ha! ha!&#8221; and he laughed, &#8220;He! he!&#8221;</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, &#8220;Oh! oh!&#8221;</div>
+<div class="indent">Yes, pecked him right on the nose.</div>
+<div class="indent3">&#8220;Boo! Boo!&#8221;</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">&#8220;You are wild!&#8221; 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">&#8220;Wild! Wild!&#8221; the rascal sings.</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8220;But your feet are in the gutter!&#8221;</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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;s petals&mdash;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&#8217;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&mdash;</div>
+<div class="verse">England in June&mdash;a sea-bird&#8217;s nest indeed</div>
+<div class="verse">Guarded of waves, and hid by the sea-weed</div>
+<div class="verse">From envious hunter&#8217;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>&mdash;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&#8217;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&#8217;s sunshine-smitten wing.</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">Therefore, dear brother men (where&#8217;er ye be),</div>
+<div class="verse">Who strive for right</div>
+<div class="verse">With such short sight,</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8217;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&#8217;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">&#8220;Must</span> ever I be so</div>
+<div class="verse">&mdash;Yellow and old?&#8221; you asked,</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8220;With living overtasked,</div>
+<div class="verse">Ugly, and racked with pains?&#8221;</div>
+<div class="verse">I answered, &#8220;Even so,</div>
+<div class="verse">Dearest; yet love remains.&#8221;</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&#8217;s pride,</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">And willed that we should know,</div>
+<div class="indent">Despite of man&#8217;s gross sense,</div>
+<div class="verse">The wonder and dawn-glow</div>
+<div class="indent">Of Love&#8217;s omnipotence,&mdash;</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">By all of this I swear,</div>
+<div class="indent">And by God&#8217;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">&mdash;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">&#8217;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&mdash;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&mdash;be man alive:</div>
+<div class="verse">Yet through no body&#8217;s blunder</div>
+<div class="verse">To drag the bright soul under</div>
+<div class="verse">&mdash;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&mdash;</div>
+<div class="verse">The dual mystery</div>
+<div class="verse">Of man&mdash;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&mdash;</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&mdash;</div>
+<div class="verse">Virgin of lust and spot&mdash;</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 (&#8217;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">&#8220;What would you do with life again,&#8221; asks he, &#8220;if one could give it?&#8221;</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8220;No use to talk when life is done,&#8221; I say.</div>
+<div class="verse">&#8220;But, by the living God, if He should grant me life I&#8217;d live it</div>
+<div class="verse">Kinder to man, truer to God each day.&#8221;</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">&#8220;Kinder to man, truer to God,&#8221; 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&#8217;t explain</div>
+<div class="verse">Is&mdash;<i>The stretcher-bearers found me quite alone</i>.</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">But, howsoe&#8217;er it happened, it matters not at last,</div>
+<div class="verse">Since God&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&mdash;dreaming empires&mdash;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&mdash;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&#8217;er within my motherland</div>
+<div class="verse">The sound may come, &#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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>
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