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The Penguin Book of First World War Poetry

Page 7

by Various Contributors


  ‘Lights out! Lights out!’ to the deserted square.

  On the thin brazen notes he threw a prayer,

  ‘God, if it’s this for me next time in France…

  O spare the phantom bugle as I lie

  Dead in the gas and smoke and roar of guns,

  Dead in a row with the other broken ones

  Lying so stiff and still under the sky,

  Jolly young Fusiliers too good to die.’

  Robert Graves

  In Training

  The wind is cold and heavy

  And storms are in the sky:

  Our path across the heather

  Goes higher and more high.

  To right, the town we came from,

  To left, blue hills and sea:

  The wind is growing colder

  And shivering are we.

  We drag with stiffening fingers

  10 Our rifles up the hill.

  The path is steep and tangled

  But leads to Flanders still.

  Edward Shanks

  Youth in Arms II: Soldier

  Are you going? To-night we must hear all your laughter;

  We shall need to remember it in the quiet days after.

  Lift your rough hands, grained like unpolished oak.

  Drink, call, lean forward, tell us some happy joke.

  Let us know every whim of your brain and innocent soul.

  Your speech is let loose; your great loafing words roll

  Like hill-waters. But every syllable said

  Brings you nearer the time you’ll be found lying dead

  In a ditch, or rolled stiff on the stones of a plain.

  10 (Thought! Thought go back into your kennel again:

  Hound, back!) Drink your glass, happy soldier, to-night.

  Death is quick; you will laugh as you march to the fight.

  We are wrong. Dreaming ever, we falter and pause:

  You go forward unharmed without Why or Because.

  Spring does not question. The war is like rain;

  You will fall in the field like a flower without pain;

  And who shall have noticed one sweet flower that dies?

  The rain comes; the leaves open, and other flowers rise.

  Harold Monro

  ‘Men Who March Away’

  (Song of the Soldiers)

  What of the faith and fire within us

  Men who march away

  Ere the barn-cocks say

  Night is growing gray,

  To hazards whence no tears can win us;

  What of the faith and fire within us

  Men who march away!

  Is it a purblind prank, O think you,

  Friend with the musing eye

  10 Who watch us stepping by

  With doubt and dolorous sigh?

  Can much pondering so hoodwink you?

  Is it a purblind prank, O think you,

  Friend with the musing eye?

  Nay. We see well what we are doing,

  Though some may not see –

  Dalliers as they be –

  England’s need are we;

  Her distress would leave us rueing:

  20 Nay. We well see what we are doing,

  Though some may not see!

  In our heart of hearts believing

  Victory crowns the just,

  And that braggarts must

  Surely bite the dust,

  Press we to the field ungrieving,

  In our heart of hearts believing

  Victory crowns the just.

  Hence the faith and fire within us

  30 Men who march away

  Ere the barn-cocks say

  Night is growing gray,

  To hazards whence no tears can win us;

  Hence the faith and fire within us

  Men who march away.

  Thomas Hardy

  Marching Men

  Under the level winter sky

  I saw a thousand Christs go by.

  They sang an idle song and free

  As they went up to calvary.

  Careless of eye and coarse of lip,

  They marched in holiest fellowship.

  That heaven might heal the world, they gave

  Their earth-born dreams to deck the grave.

  With souls unpurged and steadfast breath

  10 They supped the sacrament of death.

  And for each one, far off, apart,

  Seven swords have rent a woman’s heart.

  Marjorie Pickthall

  The Send-off

  Down the close, darkening lanes they sang their way

  To the siding-shed,

  And lined the train with faces grimly gay.

  Their breasts were stuck all white with wreath and spray

  As men’s are, dead.

  Dull porters watched them, and a casual tramp

  Stood staring hard,

  Sorry to miss them from the upland camp.

  Then, unmoved, signals nodded, and a lamp

  10 Winked to the guard.

  So secretly, like wrongs hushed-up, they went.

  They were not ours:

  We never heard to which front these were sent.

  Nor there if they yet mock what women meant

  Who gave them flowers.

  Shall they return to beatings of great bells

  In wild trainloads?

  A few, a few, too few for drums and yells,

  May creep back, silent, to still village wells

  20 Up half-known roads.

  Wilfred Owen

  Fragment

  I strayed about the deck, an hour, to-night

  Under a cloudy moonless sky; and peeped

  In at the windows, watched my friends at table,

  Or playing cards, or standing in the doorway,

  Or coming out into the darkness. Still

  No one could see me.

  I would have thought of them

  – Heedless, within a week of battle – in pity,

  Pride in their strength and in the weight and firmness

  And link’d beauty of bodies, and pity that

  10 This gay machine of splendour’ld soon be broken,

  Thought little of, pashed, scattered…

  Only, always,

  I could but see them – against the lamplight – pass

  Like coloured shadows, thinner than filmy glass,

  Slight bubbles, fainter than the wave’s faint light,

  That broke to phosphorus out in the night,

  Perishing things and strange ghosts – soon to die

  To other ghosts – this one, or that, or I.

  Rupert Brooke

  2 SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE

  In Trenches

  First Time In

  After the dread tales and red yarns of the Line

  Anything might have come to us; but the divine

  Afterglow brought us up to a Welsh colony

  Hiding in sandbag ditches, whispering consolatory

  Soft foreign things. Then we were taken in

  To low huts candle-lit, shaded close by slitten

  Oilsheets, and there the boys gave us kind welcome,

  So that we looked out as from the edge of home.

  Sang us Welsh things, and changed all former notions

  10 To human hopeful things. And the next day’s guns

  Nor any line-pangs ever quite could blot out

  That strangely beautiful entry to war’s rout;

  Candles they gave us, precious and shared over-rations –

  Ulysses found little more in his wanderings without doubt.

  ‘David of the White Rock’, the ‘Slumber Song’ so soft, and that

  Beautiful tune to which roguish words by Welsh pit boys

  Are sung – but never more beautiful than here under the guns’ noise.

  Ivor Gurney

  Break of Day in the Trenches

  The darkness crumbles away –

  It is the same old d
ruid Time as ever.

  Only a live thing leaps my hand –

  A queer sardonic rat –

  As I pull the parapet’s poppy

  To stick behind my ear.

  Droll rat, they would shoot you if they knew

  Your cosmopolitan sympathies

  (And God knows what antipathies).

  10 Now you have touched this English hand

  You will do the same to a German –

  Soon, no doubt, if it be your pleasure

  To cross the sleeping green between.

  It seems you inwardly grin as you pass

  Strong eyes, fine limbs, haughty athletes

  Less chanced than you for life,

  Bonds to the whims of murder,

  Sprawled in the bowels of the earth,

  The torn fields of France.

  20 What do you see in our eyes

  At the shrieking iron and flame

  Hurled through still heavens?

  What quaver – what heart aghast?

  Poppies whose roots are in man’s veins

  Drop, and are ever dropping;

  But mine in my ear is safe,

  Just a little white with the dust.

  Isaac Rosenberg

  ‘Bombed last night’

  Bombed last night, and bombed the night before.

  Going to get bombed tonight if we never get bombed any more.

  When we’re bombed, we’re scared as we can be.

  Can’t stop the bombing from old Higher Germany.

  They’re warning us, they’re warning us.

  One shell hole for just the four of us.

  Thank your lucky stars there are no more of us.

  So one of us can fill it all alone.

  Gassed last night, and gassed the night before.

  10 Going to get gassed tonight if we never get gassed any more.

  When we’re gassed, we’re sick as we can be.

  For phosgene and mustard gas is much too much for me.

  They’re killing us, they’re killing us.

  One respirator for the four of us.

  Thank your lucky stars that we can all run fast.

  So one of us can take it all alone.

  Soldiers’ song

  Breakfast

  We ate our breakfast lying on our backs,

  Because the shells were screeching overhead.

  I bet a rasher to a loaf of bread

  That Hull United would beat Halifax

  When Jimmy Stainthorp played full-back instead

  Of Billy Bradford. Ginger raised his head

  And cursed, and took the bet; and dropt back dead.

  We ate our breakfast lying on our backs,

  Because the shells were screeching overhead.

  Wilfrid Gibson

  In the Trenches

  I

  Not that we are weary,

  Not that we fear,

  Not that we are lonely

  Though never alone –

  Not these, not these destroy us;

  But that each rush and crash

  Of mortar and shell,

  Each cruel bitter shriek of bullet

  That tears the wind like a blade,

  10 Each wound on the breast of earth,

  Of Demeter, our Mother,

  Wound us also, Sever and rend the fine fabric

  Of the wings of our frail souls,

  Scatter into dust the bright wings

  Of Psyche!

  II

  Impotent,

  How important is all this clamour,

  This destruction and contest…

  20 Night after night comes the moon

  Haughty and perfect;

  Night after night the Pleiades sing

  And Orion swings his belt across the sky.

  Night after night the frost

  Crumbles the hard earth.

  Soon the spring will drop flowers

  And patient creeping stalk and leaf

  Along these barren lines

  Where the huge rats scuttle

  30 And the hawk shrieks to the carrion crow.

  Can you stay them with your noise?

  Then kill winter with your cannon,

  Hold back Orion with your bayonets

  And crush the spring leaf with your armies!

  Richard Aldington

  Winter Warfare

  Colonel Cold strode up the Line

  (Tabs of rime and spurs of ice),

  Stiffened all where he did glare,

  Horses, men, and lice.

  Visited a forward post,

  Left them burning, ear to foot;

  Fingers stuck to biting steel,

  Toes to frozen boot.

  Stalked on into No Man’s Land,

  10 Turned the wire to fleecy wool,

  Iron stakes to sugar sticks

  Snapping at a pull.

  Those who watched with hoary eyes

  Saw two figures gleaming there;

  Hauptman Kälte, Colonel Cold,

  Gaunt, in the grey air.

  Stiffly, tinkling spurs they moved

  Glassy eyed, with glinting heel

  Stabbing those who lingered there

  20 Torn by screaming steel.

  Edgell Rickword

  Futility

  Move him into the sun –

  Gently its touch awoke him once,

  At home, whispering of fields unsown.

  Always it awoke him, even in France,

  Until this morning and this snow.

  If anything might rouse him now

  The kind old sun will know.

  Think how it wakes the seeds –

  Woke, once, the clays of a cold star.

  10 Are limbs so dear-achieved, are sides

  Full-nerved, – still warm, – too hard to stir?

  Was it for this the clay grew tall?

  – O what made fatuous sunbeams toil

  To break earth’s sleep at all?

  Wilfred Owen

  Exposure

  I

  Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knife us…

  Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent…

  Low drooping flares confuse our memory of the salient…

  Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, nervous,

  But nothing happens.

  Watching, we hear the mad gusts tugging on the wire.

  Like twitching agonies of men among its brambles.

  Northward incessantly, the flickering gunnery rumbles,

  Far off, like a dull rumour of some other war.

  10 What are we doing here?

  The poignant misery of dawn begins to grow…

  We only know war lasts, rain soaks, and clouds sag stormy.

  Dawn massing in the east her melancholy army

  Attacks once more in ranks on shivering ranks of gray,

  But nothing happens.

  Sudden successive flights of bullets streak the silence.

  Less deadly than the air that shudders black with snow,

  With sidelong flowing flakes that flock, pause and renew,

  We watch them wandering up and down the wind’s nonchalance,

  20 But nothing happens.

  II

  Pale flakes with lingering stealth come feeling for our faces –

  We cringe in holes, back on forgotten dreams, and stare, snow-dazed,

  Deep into grassier ditches. So we drowse, sun-dozed,

  Littered with blossoms trickling where the blackbird fusses.

  Is it that we are dying?

  Slowly our ghosts drag home: glimpsing the sunk fires glozed

  With crusted dark-red jewels; crickets jingle there;

  For hours the innocent mice rejoice: the house is theirs;

  Shutters and doors all closed: on us the doors are closed –

  30 We turn back to our dying.

  Since we believe not otherwise can kind fires burn;

  Now ever sun
s smile true on child, or field, or fruit.

  For God’s invincible spring our love is made afraid;

  Therefore, not loath, we lie out here; therefore were born,

  For love of God seems dying.

  To-night, His frost will fasten on this mud and us,

  Shrivelling many hands and puckering foreheads crisp.

  The burying-party, picks and shovels in their shaking grasp,

  Pause over half-known faces. All their eyes are ice,

  40 But nothing happens.

  Wilfred Owen

  ‘We’re here because we’re here’

  We’re here

  Because

  We’re here

  Because

  We’re here

  Because we’re here.

  Soldiers’ song

  Poem

  Abbreviated from the Conversation of Mr. T. E. H.

  Over the flat slope of St. Eloi

  A wide wall of sandbags.

  Night,

  In the silence desultory men

  Pottering over small fires, cleaning their mess-tins:

  To and fro, from the lines,

  Men walk as on Piccadilly,

  Making paths in the dark,

  Through scattered dead horses,

  10 Over a dead Belgian’s belly.

  The Germans have rockets. The English have no rockets.

  Behind the lines, cannon, hidden, lying back miles.

  Before the line, chaos:

  My mind is a corridor. The minds about me are corridors.

  Nothing suggests itself. There is nothing to do but keep on.

  Ezra Pound

 

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