|Edmund Blunden (1896-1974)
I sing of the loves I have had, of the
folk and the times and the places
That look to have left me
for ever: but
still they have left their traces
Deep in my heart; if you are a lover of sorrow
and learn the delights that have
passioned the heart of a boy.
I sing of the rivers and hamlets and woodlands
Sussex and Kent,
Such as I know them: I found a delight wher-
ever I went,
By plat and by hatch, through acres of
I sing of the friends I have made, and the one
or two who would mourn.
We shuddered on the blotched and
So gaunt and chilled with solitary
stubborn grass, black heather-trails, wild
Knotting their knared wood like a thorny
dips to chalklands straked with
White railway smoke-drifts dimming by degrees,
Slow ploughs afield, flood waters
on the leas,
And red roofs of the small, ungainly town:
And blue fog over all, and saddening all-
Thus lay the landscape.
Up from sea there
A stately airship, clear and large awhile:
Then, gliding grandly inland many a mile,
left our Druid height that black groves
Vanishing fog-like in the foggy pall.
|John McCrae (1872-1918)
In Flanders FieldsIn Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
- O guns, fall silent till the dead men hear
- Above their heads the legions pressing on:
- (These fought their fight in time of bitter fear,
- And died not knowing how the day had gone.)
- O flashing muzzles, pause, and let them see
- The coming dawn that streaks the sky afar;
- Then let your mighty chorus witness be
- To them, and Caesar, that we still make war.
- Tell them, O guns, that we have heard their call,
- That we have sworn, and will not turn aside,
- That we will onward till we win or fall,
- That we will keep the faith for which they died.
- Bid them be patient, and some day, anon,
- They shall feel earth enwrapt in silence deep;
- Shall greet, in wonderment, the quiet dawn,
- And in content may turn them to their sleep.