In the Day of Battle: Poems of the Great War

Forside
W. Briggs, 1917 - 180 sider
This book is a selection of poems concerning World War I.
 

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Side 54 - If I should die, think only this of me: That there's some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England. There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed; A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam, A body of England's, breathing English air, Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home. And think, this heart, all evil shed away, A pulse in the eternal mind, no less Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given; Her sights and...
Side 61 - In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark 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 In Flanders fields.
Side 56 - Honour has come back, as a king, to earth, And paid his subjects with a royal wage; And Nobleness walks in our ways again; And we have come into our heritage.
Side 173 - But I've a rendezvous with Death At midnight in some flaming town, When Spring trips north again this year, And I to my pledged word am true, I shall not fail that rendezvous.
Side 172 - I have a rendezvous with Death At some disputed barricade, When Spring comes back with rustling shade And apple-blossoms fill the air — I have a rendezvous with Death When Spring brings back blue days and fair. It may be he shall take my hand And lead me into his dark land And close my eyes and quench my breath — It may be I shall pass him still. I have a rendezvous with Death...
Side 168 - FOR all we have and are, For all our children's fate, Stand up and take the war, The Hun is at the gate! Our world has passed away, In wantonness o'erthrown. There is nothing left to-day But steel and fire and stone! Though all we knew depart, The old Commandments stand: — ' In courage keep your heart, In strength lift up your hand.
Side 167 - In dreary, doubtful waiting hours, Before the brazen frenzy starts, The horses show him nobler powers ; — O patient eyes, courageous hearts ! And when the burning moment breaks, And all things else are out of mind, And only Joy of Battle takes Him by the throat, and makes him blind, Through joy and blindness he shall know, Not caring much to know, that still Nor lead nor steel shall reach him, so That it be not the Destined Will. The thundering line of battle stands, And in the air Death moans...
Side 113 - Teuton; and was slain. / gave my life for freedom — this I know; For those who bade me fight had told me so.
Side 44 - I cannot quite remember. . . . There were five Dropt dead beside me in the trench — and three Whispered their dying messages to me. . . .
Side 55 - Blow out, you bugles, over the rich Dead! There's none of these so lonely and poor of old, But, dying, has made us rarer gifts than gold. These laid the world away; poured out the red Sweet wine of youth; gave up the years to be Of work and joy, and that unhoped serene, That men call age; and those who would have been, Their sons, they gave, their immortality.

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