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Sonnets from a prison camp

Chapter 116: III
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About This Book

A sequence of sonnets composed by a soldier in enemy captivity during the First World War, recording frontline violence, the suddenness of bombardment, marches and captures, the strain of waiting and the loss of comrades, and the solace found in memory and poetic labour. Many poems juxtapose immediate scenes—exploding shrapnel, crowded billets, marches, and internment camps—with reveries of homeland landscapes and classical or moral reflections. Sections move between field incidents, the nadir of imprisonment, thoughts of home and influences, and short epigrams or maxims, showing how verse acted as a mental bulwark against despair while exploring themes of fate, endurance, and the persistence of inner freedom.

III

Yet the sport wind that doubling oft blows home
Some welcome unforeseen felicity,
Is but, within the dreams of poesie,
Life’s average accident, which all who roam
The spacious earth, or try the beckoning foam
Of some unvisited soul-haunting sea,
May count on as their portion—even as we
Who chance a star or two in this weird gloam.
Hence as in all high toil which must be traced
In long-drawn sequence, linking part to part,
Not chance nor inspiration can fulfil
The welded whole, nor vanquish that distaste
Which ever comes with pause; but sovereign Art
Herself must bow to man’s more sovereign Will.

Hesepe, 24th June