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|
|15.||Preparations For Victory||1/3/2003|
|16.||Report On Experience||1/3/2003|
|17.||The Ancre At Hamel: Afterwards||4/3/2010|
|18.||The Child's Grave||4/3/2010|
|19.||The Giant Puff-Ball||4/3/2010|
|20.||The Midnight Skaters||1/3/2003|
|21.||The Poor Man's Pig||4/3/2010|
|24.||The Zonnebeke Road||4/3/2010|
|27.||Vlamertinghe: Passing The Chateau||1/3/2003|
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.
"I'll do my best," the soul makes sad reply,
"And I will mark the yet unmurdered tree,
The tokens of dear homes that court the eye,
Report On Experience
I have been young, and now am not too old;
And I have seen the righteous forsaken,
His health, his honour and his quality taken.
This is not what we were formerly told.
I have seen a green country, useful to the race,
Knocked silly with guns and mines, its villages vanished,
Even the last rat and the last kestrel banished -
God bless us all, this was peculiar grace.