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Gloucestershire Friends: Poems From a German Prison Camp cover

Gloucestershire Friends: Poems From a German Prison Camp

Chapter 29: TO THE DEVIL ON HIS APPALLING DECADENCE
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About This Book

A collection of short poems written by a soldier in captivity reflecting on home, memory, and the experience of imprisonment. The verse moves between intimate domestic images—mother, English gardens, county landscapes—and the hardships of internment, loneliness, and comradeship, often blending pastoral detail with wartime grief and wry humor. Forms vary from ballades and sonnets to rondel and villanelle, and recurring motifs include nature, loss, longing, and reflections on duty and sacrifice. Many pieces juxtapose the small joys of remembered rural life with the starkness of prison, producing restrained lyricism that balances tenderness, anger, and quiet faith.

TO THE DEVIL ON HIS APPALLING DECADENCE

Satan, old friend and enemy of man;
Lord of the shadows and the sins whereby
We wretches glimpse the sun in Virtue’s sky
Guessing at last the wideness of His plan
Who fashioned kid and tiger, slayer and slain,
The paradox of evil, and the pain
Which threshes joy as with a winnowing fan:
Satan, of old your custom ’twas at least
To throw an apple to the soul you caught
Robbing your orchard. You, before you wrought
Damnation due and marked it with the beast,
Before its eyes were e’en disposed to dangle
Fruitage delicious. And you would not mangle
Nor maul the body of the dear deceased.
But you were called familiarly “Old Nick”—
The Devil, yet a gentleman you know!
Relentless—true, yet courteous to a foe.
Man’s soul your traffic was. You would not kick
His bloody entrails flying in the air.
Oh, “Krieg ist Krieg,” we know, and “C’est la guerre!”
But Satan, don’t you feel a trifle sick?