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Sonnets from a prison camp

Chapter 76: XVI
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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.

XVI

—Infatuate queen, who oft as lingering day
Rounds to his close, and passion’s hour is nigh,
Through Atreus’ halls on soundless foot doth hie,
And from the tower the purpling east survey—
Lest in the still and fearful night’s thick play,
While by her beating side doth sweltering lie
Sallow Ægisthus with the hawking eye,
Swift Fate prepare a swifter stroke than they;
And while love’s maddening vintage they partake,
A sudden flame should redden all the land,
And beacon call to beacon, where they break
From the lone watchman on the Ægean strand.
“The ship! the ship! His ship comes tossing o’er
The wine-dark sea. The King is at the door.”

Hesepe, 9th June