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Sonnets from a prison camp

Chapter 120: II
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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.

II

I heard it in the strife of other days;
It reached me in my home across the sea,
That the great soul that made my England free,
And now must make her perfect, idly plays
With the tremendous issue; that they raise
Sedition’s banner with impunity,
And legislators, hot with laboured plea,
Pile law on law, while Law herself decays.
It is the everlasting cloud that dwells
Upon the summit, compassed in one word,
Disruption, whose deep thunder as it swells
Unnerves us, and arrests the falling sword,
Even to this hour, when but to differ spells
Lese-majesty, and loyalty means accord.

Hesepe, 25th June