A WAR ANTHOLOGY.
■ ' '••,'•.' i ■ . » H.F.O. The perfect anthology has yet to be compileel; or rib two persona,' I auppose/will ever agree absolutely, in their .selections on any particular,'subject. ■' Still, it is open to* any one of .us,'' however unliterary he may Be, ,to form' an anthology which shall be i utterly = satisfying ,; to at' least one boul, and t quite possibly interesting, arid. stimulating , to. a rather -t wider public. \' - - > ,".' ■./.., .- The war, so far from dealing the deathblow- to poetry and imaginative literature generally, has aroused us from our bovine placidity and awakened cravings for v the life of the spirit— devotion to something afar from, but' akin to, ■ the "sphere of our Borrow." This change of- feeling' is I vividly and simply expressed in the poem, "Christ in Flanders," by an • anonymous writer in the Spectator. >> Here vara two verses: ' ''< ''•' •' %s■*'£ ■>'■ I -w'
We ; had forgotten. You. '■■ or vers nearly— You did not seem to touoh us very nearly. Of course, we thou«ht about You now and ■• -then; v- .. -~*-<•. Especially in any time of trouble— "*r Wo know that you were roo„ in time of, ' trouble •But we are very ordinary men.
No to remember; over hero in Flanders (It isn't strange to think of You in Flanders).. This hideous warfare secma to make .things •'■ : dear. , *' ' Wo never thought about You muoh. in Eng- -■■.■'--. land. .' ' - .:-'-.'.;.'' ;' : .•,>-'.-: But now that we are far, away from England We have no doubts, we know that You are ■ here. > ' ■'■*• -":•-;;.-'', :■'■■■
Now, the: special beauty of one's own private and 1 particular anthology is tha£ the ''contents' need not conform to any order or arrangement it is unScholarly,; but human, or,' as the Frenchman said of the; encyclopaedia, , interesting \ but disconnected.;. It is a record of varying moods, arid/i perhaps, it has, after all, 'i deeper unity of spirit than a first glance would disclose. :
/■; .••Heroes." ; v The next , extract, then, obviously written before conscription in England, is en- I titled " Heroes," and runs thus: ,- j ,We' be -, eleven ; 'ebod: men and 'stout. V ; ' ! '-• ■ r . Young;, and r fit, trained ".to* as ounce, I Runninir about : and?running-about.; -r- : ,; Watching a football bounce. ' -, J'" Some 'of us cost a"*thousand pounds. - J- ''■ Some of us:stand for,ten per cent. .. r V'" Dojrou l think»it ■is likely-we; shall go'/..':.,. ;;,Whore- Roberts and Nelson went?-;;,', :; But 1 " we shall appear. whan the > last. gun ' Bounds. ; ■ ,::; '•.,'/■':, =-. ,;'.">;'?-;, ; And sorrow has covered the dead men un, Sleek and solid and sound of limb/, * *•' ■» Claaninjr the English Cup. -.Those who soe in the institution of the Blue Cross one of the most hopeful signs of the progress of civilisation will appreciate in Ralph Hodgson's poem, "The Bells of Heaven," though it has no direct bearing upon the war, an' intensity of feeling, rivalling that of Blake himself,' a loving and angry ■. sympathy :] with/ ? all % illtreated children of the wild, ■■ and more especially those who have been robbed of their rightful heritage of freedom: :-, I ! would ring the bells of heaven/' •:' j ;>'Tho wildest peal for;years., . . - II Parson lost his. souses . , 7 And ■ made people ,oome :to theirs, /-And' 1 ho'.and; they together , j,j Knelt -down, with angry prayers, , ■ For tamo 4 and shabby tutors ■ fi .-.-.-.' -' And dancing 'dogs and, i bears, > . , •;. ;' ; :;; ; And- ' wretched blind pit ponies,. • And little hunted hares. • -.- Long; before\the United - States •entered -the- war the, following ;verses/; which appeered *in• an American , journal, s showed . that '' official neutrality was, even ?; then, pressing heavily ',' upon ;: the ; mora 'f; ardent spirits:,;.. ; v , 6 England.; in : the smoking ; trenches dying For «dl, the world. • /, , . ,'-; ■ We' hold bur breath and watch. your bright -,' flag flying -■/'-•, /;. /-/.'". -' While ours is furled. ;> ' ;' ,:.'/._'/",-.%
We say we're neutral (yet each lip with ... ~ fervour ' The name, abjures), ' , ■"'.•■<'""■■*," 0 England, never narao us the time-server 1 • Our hearts are yours. ; >?;Sv,- --' J/ "
We. who so (tlory in your high decision. < So trust your g0a1.,,>-" ■;;•*"'»' ; :>• ' All > Europe's m our blood, J but 'yours; ou^ »: vision. . ;<. -.; - ■,"•"; r - -";- ~ ". Our, speech, our soul, ■
A Famous Victory. /The '.irony of a'parody is often pointed by its apt reminiscence of the ; original; and those who have smiled at the artless persistence of little Wilhelmine will be the more edified by the same quality/in her (surely): lineal descendant, Fritz von Hoggenhoim; i,. His' grandfather, V old Bethmann," has been explaining the ''glorious victory ? of Jutland, . and ( then proceeds; to denounce the brutal British for continuing' to blockade, the German porta, /■ To whom the tactless child; *, ■'■'■ "But, grandpapa," ■ said little Frits, ■ ■■'••: "If wo had really. Won '' '-: Why did not Prussia nil© the sea, isPs.As;Britain once had:done?" •:'■':•'".%" I '.'Oh.: shut your ;; silly; mouth 1" said, he i:. .■'-/.- "It was. a famous victory.' It seems inevitable that a war anthology should close upon a, note of sadness—of sadness, ; yet 'of high decision, and these lines by a soldier-poet (who has since died of wounds) sum' up, I , think, 'very, simply and . sincerely, both our purpose in the Sim present and our hopes for a fairer ture: ', *' --*, '," If thro' 'this roar o 1 the guns one prayer '«. may reach Thee,.- '■.•.? .■:■•■-: .<•/'; 0..-; '.. r/ i Lord of ; all' lite, whose mercies never '■'"» sleep. .;,< ;"',, <■".■■;' x i:i ' '"-Y'Li>i *■■'■• .; .?i ' Not in our time, not now, Lord, wo beseech Thee v • '; - : ' M "<*, 1 : 'To grant' us peace. The sword has bit too deep. ,; ; . ;;•-,; v "'. ■'■■■ •■■■ v jv Hark the roar grows . , . the thunders •.v'* reawaken.'v' >-'■:.;- ■ ■,•"-■; ■-,■.' ■■ -.•*■ :•■: ,;; We : ask .'one thing, , Lord, only one thing now;. .■ ', . - , , Hearts high .'as theirs who went to death un- ■ shaken., ,. ,J: -.■.-.:. ■' :•■•.■'.-■' v X Courage like theirs to make and keep their - . vow. . , To stay not till time hosts'whom' mercies harden. '': .• ~: ~ '■■; -- .-Who know.no glory, save of the sword and ■ ■•<'": fire.--, ''' '•■\.--''''-/'''-'.''v',;--''/;--'i;-,v:''i,:,v' i v Find in our fire '•■■. the., splendour of Thy pardon. i - :■•-! '•;••' '~ , '"' > Meet from our.steel: the meroy' they de- . sire .;.. . , ...-?;' . Then to our children there, shall be no handins '*- . ' Of rfates so vain—of passions so- Ha\ • horred ~•..'.• But Peace . . . the Peace"' whioh passeth . understanding. ... >'' Not in. our time ... but in their time, ;■' 0 Lord.. •;■ * '■■-
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New Zealand Herald, Volume LIV, Issue 16669, 13 October 1917, Page 1 (Supplement)
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988A WAR ANTHOLOGY. New Zealand Herald, Volume LIV, Issue 16669, 13 October 1917, Page 1 (Supplement)
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