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Sonnets from a prison camp

Chapter 118: ENGLAND
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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.

ENGLAND

I

England, the strain of weakness in thee shows
Like to some fell distemper which doth threat
Thy noble life with blight, and doth beget
Many malignant sores. The evil flows
Not from one source, but gradually grows
With thine own growth of years, wherein are met
All the deep instincts that did ever fret
The soul of freedom against freedom’s foes.
But whatsoe’er the form, the effect is one;
Some great cause grandly tried and bravely lost,
Some work of beauty marred upon the loom,
And at the final reckoning, something done,
Yet at a bitter and a fearful cost—
In broken hearts and many a needless tomb.

Hesepe, 25th June