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The Penguin Book of First World War Poetry

Page 15

by Various Contributors


  That dance and batten. Though God die

  Mad from the horror of the light –

  The light is mad, too, flecked with blood, –

  We dance, we dance, each night.

  Edith Sitwell

  Epitaphs: A Son

  My son was killed while laughing at some jest. I would I knew

  What it was, and it might serve me in a time when jests are few.

  Rudyard Kipling

  ‘I looked up from my writing’

  I looked up from my writing,

  And gave a start to see,

  As if rapt in my inditing,

  The moon’s full gaze on me.

  Her meditative misty head

  Was spectral in its air,

  And I involuntarily said,

  ‘What are you doing there?’

  ‘Oh, I’ve been scanning pond and hole

  10 And waterway hereabout

  For the body of one with a sunken soul

  Who has put his life-light out.

  ‘Did you hear his frenzied tattle?

  It was sorrow for his son

  Who is slain in brutish battle,

  Though he has injured none.

  ‘And now I am curious to look

  Into the blinkered mind

  Of one who wants to write a book

  20 In a world of such a kind.’

  Her temper overwrought me,

  And I edged to shun her view,

  For I felt assured she thought me

  One who should drown him too.

  Thomas Hardy

  Picnic

  July 1917

  We lay and ate sweet hurt-berries

  In the bracken of Hurt Wood.

  Like a quire of singers singing low

  The dark pines stood.

  Behind us climbed the Surrey hills,

  Wild, wild in greenery;

  At our feet the downs of Sussex broke

  To an unseen sea.

  And life was bound in a still ring,

  10 Drowsy, and quiet, and sweet…

  When heavily up the south-east wind

  The great guns beat.

  We did not wince, we did not weep,

  We did not curse or pray;

  We drowsily heard, and someone said,

  ‘They sound clear to-day’.

  We did not shake with pity and pain,

  Or sicken and blanch white.

  We said, ‘If the wind’s from over there

  20 There’ll be rain to-night’.

  *

  Once pity we knew, and rage we knew,

  And pain we knew, too well,

  As we stared and peered dizzily

  Through the gates of hell.

  But now hell’s gates are an old tale;

  Remote the anguish seems;

  The guns are muffled and far away,

  Dreams within dreams.

  And far and far are Flanders mud,

  30 And the pain of Picardy;

  And the blood that runs there runs beyond

  The wide waste sea.

  We are shut about by guarding walls:

  (We have built them lest we run

  Mad from dreaming of naked fear

  And of black things done.)

  We are ringed all round by guarding walls,

  So high, they shut the view.

  Not all the guns that shatter the world

  40 Can quite break through.

  *

  Oh, guns of France, oh, guns of France

  Be still, you crash in vain…

  Heavily up the south wind throb

  Dull dreams of pain,…

  Be still, be still, south wind, lest your

  Blowing should bring the rain…

  We’ll lie very quiet on Hurt Hill,

  And sleep once again.

  Oh, we’ll lie quite still, nor listen nor look,

  50 While the earth’s bounds reel and shake,

  Lest, battered too long, our walls and we

  Should break …should break …

  Rose Macaulay

  As the Team’s Head-Brass

  As the team’s head-brass flashed out on the turn

  The lovers disappeared into the wood.

  I sat among the boughs of the fallen elm

  That strewed an angle of the fallow, and

  Watched the plough narrowing a yellow square

  Of charlock. Every time the horses turned

  Instead of treading me down, the ploughman leaned

  Upon the handles to say or ask a word,

  About the weather, next about the war.

  10 Scraping the share he faced towards the wood,

  And screwed along the furrow till the brass flashed

  Once more.

  The blizzard felled the elm whose crest

  I sat in, by a woodpecker’s round hole,

  The ploughman said. ‘When will they take it away?’

  ‘When the war’s over.’ So the talk began –

  One minute and an interval of ten,

  A minute more and the same interval.

  ‘Have you been out?’ ‘No.’ ‘And don’t want to, perhaps?’

  20 ‘If I could only come back again, I should.

  I could spare an arm. I shouldn’t want to lose

  A leg. If I should lose my head, why, so,

  I should want nothing more…Have many gone

  From here?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Many lost?’ ‘Yes: good few.

  Only two teams work on the farm this year.

  One of my mates is dead. The second day

  In France they killed him. It was back in March,

  The very night of the blizzard, too. Now if

  He had stayed here we should have moved the tree.’

  30 ‘And I should not have sat here. Everything

  Would have been different. For it would have been

  Another world.’ ‘Ay, and a better, though

  If we could see all all might seem good.’ Then

  The lovers came out of the wood again:

  The horses started and for the last time

  I watched the clods crumble and topple over

  After the ploughshare and the stumbling team.

  Edward Thomas

  The Farmer, 1917

  I see a farmer walking by himself

  In the ploughed field, returning like the day

  To his dark nest. The plovers circle round

  In the gray sky; the blackbird calls; the thrush

  Still sings – but all the rest have gone to sleep.

  I see the farmer coming up the field,

  Where the new corn is sown, but not yet sprung;

  He seems to be the only man alive

  And thinking through the twilight of this world.

  10 I know that there is war behind those hills,

  And I surmise, but cannot see the dead,

  And cannot see the living in their midst –

  So awfully and madly knit with death.

  I cannot feel, but I know there is war,

  And has been now for three eternal years,

  Behind the subtle cinctures of those hills.

  I see the farmer coming up the field,

  And as I look, imagination lifts

  The sullen veil of alternating cloud,

  20 And I am stunned by what I see behind

  His solemn and uncompromising form:

  Wide hosts of men who once could walk like him

  In freedom, quite alone with night and day,

  Uncounted shapes of living flesh and bone,

  Worn dull, quenched dry, gone blind and sick, with war;

  And they are him and he is one with them;

  They see him as he travels up the field.

  O God, how lonely freedom seems to-day!

  O single farmer walking through the world,

  30 They bless the seed in you that earth shall reap,

  When they, their countless lives, and all their th
oughts,

  Lie scattered by the storm: when peace shall come

  With stillness, and long shivers, after death.

  Fredegond Shove

  May, 1915

  Let us remember Spring will come again

  To the scorched, blackened woods, where the wounded trees

  Wait with their old wise patience for the heavenly rain,

  Sure of the sky: sure of the sea to send its healing breeze,

  Sure of the sun. And even as to these

  Surely the Spring, when God shall please,

  Will come again like a divine surprise

  To those who sit to-day with their great Dead, hands in their hands, eyes in their eyes,

  At one with Love, at one with Grief: blind to the scattered things and changing skies.

  Charlotte Mew

  Lucky Blighters

  ‘They’

  The Bishop tells us: ‘When the boys come back

  They will not be the same; for they’ll have fought

  In a just cause: they lead the last attack

  On Anti-Christ; their comrades’ blood has bought

  New right to breed an honourable race.

  They have challenged Death and dared him face to face.’

  ‘We’re none of us the same!’ the boys reply.

  ‘For George lost both his legs; and Bill’s stone blind;

  Poor Jim’s shot through the lungs and like to die;

  10 And Bert’s gone siphilitic: you’ll not find

  A chap who’s served that hasn’t found some change.’

  And the Bishop said: ‘The ways of God are strange!’

  Siegfried Sassoon

  Portrait of a Coward

  True he’d have fought to death if the Germans came –

  But an hours battering after a days battering

  Brought his soul down to quivering, with small shame.

  And he was fit to run, if his chance had come.

  But Gloucesters of more sterner frame and spirit

  Kept him in place without reproach, (sweet blood inherit

  From hills and nature) said no word and kept him there.

  True, he’d have fought to death, but Laventie’s needing

  Was a nerve to hide the pain of the soul bleeding –

  10 Say nothing, and nothing ever of God to beg.

  He hurt more, did fatigues, and was friend to share

  What food was not his need; of enemies not heeding.

  Everybody was glad – (but determined to hide the bad)

  When he took courage at wiremending and shot his leg,

  And got to Blighty, no man saying word of denying.

  Ivor Gurney

  In A Soldiers’ Hospital I: Pluck

  Crippled for life at seventeen,

  His great eyes seem to question why:

  With both legs smashed it might have been

  Better in that grim trench to die

  Than drag maimed years out helplessly.

  A child – so wasted and so white,

  He told a lie to get his way,

  To march, a man with men, and fight

  While other boys are still at play.

  10 A gallant lie your heart will say.

  So broke with pain, he shrinks in dread

  To see the ‘dresser’ drawing near;

  And winds the clothes about his head

  That none may see his heart-sick fear.

  His shaking, strangled sobs you hear.

  But when the dreaded moment’s there

  He’ll face us all, a soldier yet,

  Watch his bared wounds with unmoved air,

  (Though tell-tale lashes still are wet,)

  20 And smoke his woodbine cigarette.

  Eva Dobell

  In A Soldiers’ Hospital II: Gramophone Tunes

  Through the long ward the gramophone

  Grinds out its nasal melodies:

  ‘Where did you get that girl?’ it shrills.

  The patients listen at their ease,

  Through clouds of strong tobacco-smoke:

  The gramophone can always please.

  The Welsh boy has it by his bed,

  (He’s lame – one leg was blown away.)

  He’ll lie propped up with pillows there,

  10 And wind the handle half the day.

  His neighbour, with the shattered arm,

  Picks out the records he must play.

  Jock with his crutches beats the time;

  The gunner, with his head close-bound,

  Listens with puzzled, patient smile:

  (Shell-shock – he cannot hear a sound.)

  The others join in from their beds,

  And send the chorus rolling round.

  Somehow for me these common tunes

  20 Can never sound the same again:

  They’ve magic now to thrill my heart

  And bring before me, clear and plain,

  Man that is master of his flesh,

  And has the laugh of death and pain.

  Eva Dobell

  Hospital Sanctuary

  When you have lost your all in a world’s upheaval,

  Suffered and prayed, and found your prayers were vain,

  When love is dead, and hope has no renewal –

  These need you still; come back to them again.

  When the sad days bring you the loss of all ambition,

  And pride is gone that gave you strength to bear,

  When dreams are shattered, and broken is all decision –

  Turn you to these, dependent on your care.

  They too have fathomed the depths of human anguish,

  10 Seen all that counted flung like chaff away;

  The dim abodes of pain wherein they languish

  Offer that peace for which at last you pray.

  Vera Brittain

  Convalescence

  From out the dragging vastness of the sea,

  Wave-fettered, bound in sinuous, seaweed strands,

  He toils toward the rounding beach, and stands

  One moment, white and dripping, silently,

  Cut like a cameo in lazuli,

  Then falls, betrayed by shifting shells, and lands

  Prone in the jeering water, and his hands

  Clutch for support where no support can be.

  So up, and down, and forward, inch by inch,

  10 He gains upon the shore, where poppies glow

  And sandflies dance their little lives away.

  The sucking waves retard, and tighter clinch

  The weeds about him, but the land-winds blow,

  And in the sky there blooms the sun of May.

  Amy Lowell

  Smile, Smile, Smile

  Head to limp head, the sunk-eyed wounded scanned

  Yesterday’s Mail; the casualties (typed small)

  And (large) Vast Booty from our Latest Haul.

  Also, they read of Cheap Homes, not yet planned;

  For, said the paper, ‘When this war is done

  The men’s first instinct will be making homes.

  Meanwhile their foremost need is aerodromes,

  It being certain war has just begun.

  Peace would do wrong to our undying dead, –

  10 The sons we offered might regret they died

  If we got nothing lasting in their stead.

  We must be solidly indemnified.

  Though all be worthy Victory which all bought,

  We rulers sitting in this ancient spot

  Would wrong our very selves if we forgot

  The greatest glory will be theirs who fought,

  Who kept this nation in integrity.’

  Nation? – The half-limbed readers did not chafe

  But smiled at one another curiously

  20 Like secret men who know their secret safe.

  This is the thing they know and never speak,

  That England one by one had fled to France

  (Not many elsewhere now save unde
r France).

  Pictures of these broad smiles appear each week,

  And people in whose voice real feeling rings

  Say: How they smile! They’re happy now, poor things.

  Wilfred Owen

  The Beau Ideal

  Since Rose a classic taste possessed,

  It naturally follows

  Her girlish fancy was obsessed

  With Belvidere Apollos.

  And when she dreamed about a mate,

  If any hoped to suit, he

  Must in his person illustrate

  A type of manly beauty.

  He must be physically fit,

  10 A graceful, stalwart figure,

  Of iron and elastic knit

  And full of verve and vigour.

  Enough! I’ve made the bias plain

  That warped her heart and thrilled it.

  It was a maggot of her brain,

  And Germany has killed it.

  To-day, the sound in wind and limb

 

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