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Sonnets from a prison camp

Chapter 71: XI
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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.

XI

Wordsworth, above all poets in thee I find
What in the greatest we too seldom see,
The crowning virtue of tranquillity,
Effectual o’er the sorrows of the mind.
Others to gain such peace have left behind
This hard world for the realm of fantasie,
Or in a past remote found sanctuary,
Or in the end thought’s burden have resigned.
One above all by daily struggle rose
Into a blue empyrean of the brain,
Self-mastering might, yet such as never knows
The deeper calm that masters. There remain
Nature’s anointed dynasts. Only those
Whose peace is fundamental truly reign.

Hesepe, 30th May