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Sonnets from a prison camp

Chapter 55: 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

Does the slant touch of early light awake
The sirens on the Clyde, and fling the door
Wide on the city’s rousing all-day roar?
Are the streets well a-clatter? Do they break
From tram and train, that travelling host, and take
The town by storm? Does gathering traffic pour
Over the tide-line of night’s silent shore,
Into the spaces, till the cobbles quake?
While down the river, crowded to the brink
With huddled shipyards, many a loaded quay,
Ten hundred thousand volleying hammers clink;
And the slow homing liner booms to see
The ever-coiling waters still a-wink
With mirrored shipping freighted for the sea.

Hesepe, 19th May