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Sonnets from a prison camp

Chapter 51: VI
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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.

VI

My Countrymen! The years that have gone by
Since Hengist came with Horsa from the sea,
Find the same substance in you, fiercely free,
Yet of that fundamental liberty,
The soul’s state, oft unable to descry
The deeper import, your simplicity,
Your limit, only natural chivalry
Redeeming what your insight doth deny.
Unskilled to conn the inwardness of things,
There is a health about you keeps you clean,
Derisive of all high pretence that chimes
Not with your plainness, sound. Your laughter rings
Over hard toil, and all things grandly mean
Your humour shatters, punctures, or sublimes.

Hesepe, 22nd June