Edmund Blunden Poems
|1.||1916 Seen From 1921||1/3/2003|
|2.||A Country God||4/3/2010|
|5.||At Senlis Once||1/3/2003|
|6.||Can You Remember?||4/3/2010|
|7.||Chinese Paper Knife||11/19/2003|
|8.||Concert Party: Busseboom||4/3/2010|
|16.||Preparations For Victory||1/3/2003|
|17.||Report On Experience||1/3/2003|
|18.||The Ancre At Hamel: Afterwards||4/3/2010|
|19.||The Child's Grave||4/3/2010|
|20.||The Giant Puff-Ball||4/3/2010|
|21.||The Midnight Skaters||1/3/2003|
|22.||The Poor Man's Pig||4/3/2010|
|25.||The Zonnebeke Road||4/3/2010|
|28.||Vlamertinghe: Passing The Chateau||1/3/2003|
The Zonnebeke Road
Morning, if this late withered light can claim
Some kindred with that merry flame
Which the young day was wont to fling through space!
Agony stares from each grey face.
And yet the day is come; stand down! stand down!
Your hands unclasp from rifles while you can;
The frost has pierced them to the bended bone?
Why see old Stevens there, that iron man,
Melting the ice to shave his grotesque chin!
Go ask him,, shall we win?
I never likes this bay, some foolish fear
Caught me the first time that I came here;
That dugout fallen in awakes, perhaps
Preparations For Victory
My soul, dread not the pestilence that hags
The valley; flinch not you, my body young.
At these great shouting smokes and snarling jags
Of fiery iron; as yet may not be flung
The dice that claims you. Manly move among
These ruins, and what you must do, do well;
Look, here are gardens, there mossed boughs are hung
With apples who bright cheeks none might excel,
And there's a house as yet unshattered by a shell.