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Sonnets from a prison camp

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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.

X

My countrymen, if while upon the brink
Of this Penultimate of Destiny,
The world with gathered sinews, anxiously
Craning upon the plunge, awaits the wink
Of swithering Mars, I could but make you think
A wildish thought on purpose, it would be
That England in a night beneath the sea
Should like some greater Krakatoa sink.
Then while to water and oblivion
The great ship heels majestically down,
Ask ye what world it were in which the dawn
Sparkled no more on Ocean’s jewelled crown,
But in that place where England used to be
Spouted and plashed the insufferable sea.

Hesepe, 9th July