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A Gloucestershire Lad at Home and Abroad

Chapter 10: BALLADE OF RIVER SAILING
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About This Book

This collection gathers poems composed by a soldier at the Front that alternate between affectionate dialect songs celebrating Gloucestershire landscapes, traditions and pastimes and sober battlefield reflections on comradeship, sacrifice, and homesickness. Short formal pieces—ballades, trios, sonnets—and prose poems shift between light conviviality and stark moral questioning, often anchoring wartime anxiety in images of orchards, rivers and village life. Recurring themes include longing for home, the weight of witnessing death, gratitude, defiance, and the effort to reconcile pastoral memory with the experience of combat, producing verses that balance local humor and song with solemn meditation.

BALLADE OF RIVER SAILING

The Dorothy was very small: a boat
Scarce any bigger than the sort one rows
With oars! We got her for a five-pound note
At second-hand. Yet when the river flows
Strong to the sea, and the wind lightly blows,
Then see her dancing on the tide, and you’ll
Swear she’s the prettiest little craft that goes
Up-stream from Framilode to Bollopool.
Bare-footed, push her from the bank afloat,
(The soft warm mud comes squelching through your toes!)
Scramble aboard: then find an antidote
For every care a jaded spirit knows:
While round the boat the broken water crows
With laughter, casting pretty ridicule
On human life and all its little woes,
Up-stream from Framilode to Bollopool.
How shall I tell you what the sunset wrote
Upon the outspread waters—gold and rose:
Or how the white sail of our little boat
Looks on a summer sky? The hills enclose
With blue solemnity: each white scar shows
Clear on the quarried Cotteswolds high and cool.
And high and cool a fevered spirit grows
Up-stream from Framilode to Bollopool.
Envoi.
Prince, you have horses: motors, I suppose,
As well! At finding pleasure you’re no fool.
But have you got a little boat that blows
Up-stream from Framilode to Bollopool?