born Edward Godfree Aldington, was an English writer and poet. Aldington was best known for his World War I poetry, the 1929 novel, Death of a Hero, and the controversy arising from his 1955 Lawrence of Arabia: A Biographical Inquiry. His 1946 biography, Wellington, was awarded the James Tait Black Memorial Prize.
Aldington, christened Edward Godfree, was born at Portsmouth, Hampshire, England, on July 8, 1892. At an early age, he moved with his mother, Jesse May, and father, middle-class lawer Albert Edward Aldington, to Dover. There he grew up with his sister Margery and attended preparatory schools, after which he studied for four years at Dover College.
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Richard Aldington Poems
I The bitterness. the misery, the wretchedness of childhood Put me out of love with God.
Water ruffled and speckled by galloping wind Which puffs and spurts it into tiny pashing breaks Dashed with lemon-yellow afternoon sunlight. The shining of the sun upon the water
The Faun Sees Snow for the First Time
Zeus, Brazen-thunder-hurler, Cloud-whirler, son-of-Kronos, Send vengeance on these Oreads
Come, thrust your hands in the warm earth And feel her strength through all your veins; Breathe her full odors, taste her mouth, Which laughs away imagined pains;
Four days the earth was rent and torn By bursting steel, The houses fell about us; Three nights we dared not sleep,
Plus quan se atque suos amavit omnes, nunc... - Catullus
How could I love you more? I would give up Even that beauty I have loved too well That I might love you better.
At the British Museum
I turn the page and read: "I dream of silent verses where the rhyme Glides noiseless as an oar." The heavy musty air, the black desks,
Why do you always stand there shivering Between the white stream and the road? The people pass through the dust
I Like a gondola of green scented fruits Drifting along the dark canals of Venice,
In Nineveh And beyond Nineveh In the dusk They were afraid.
Che son contenti nel fuoco We are of those that Dante saw Glad, for love's sake, among the flames of hell,
Quotationsmore quotations »
Patriotism is a lively sense of collective responsibility. Nationalism is a silly cock crowing on its own dunghill and calling for larger spurs and brighter beaks. I fear that nationalism is one of En...Richard Aldington (1892-1962), British author. Purfleet, in The Colonel's Daughter, pt. 1, ch. 6 (1931).
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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The bitterness. the misery, the wretchedness of childhood
Put me out of love with God.
I can't believe in God's goodness;
I can believe
In many avenging gods.
Most of all I believe
In gods of bitter dullness,
Cruel local gods
Who scared my childhood.
I've seen people put
A chrysalis in a match-box,
"To see," they told me, "what sort of moth would come."
But when it broke its shell
It slipped and stumbled and fell about its prison
And tried to climb to the light
For space to dry its wings.
That's how I ...