Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, BEHIND THE LINE, by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN



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BEHIND THE LINE, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Treasure not so the forlorn days
Last Line: Over the shades of shadows gone.
Alternate Author Name(s): Blunden, Edmund
Subject(s): World War I; First World War


TREASURE not so the forlorn days
When dun clouds flooded the naked plains
With foul remorseless rains;
Tread not those memory ways
Where by the dripping alien farms,
Starved orchards with their shrivelled arms,
The bitter mouldering wind would whine
At the brisk mules clattering towards the Line.

Remember not with so sharp skill
Each chasm in the clouds that strange with fire
Lit pyramid-fosse and spire
Miles on miles from our hill;
In the magic glass, aye, then their lure
Like heaven's houses gleaming pure
Might soothe the long-imprisoned sight
And put the double storm to flight.

Enact not you so like a wheel
The round of evenings in sandbagged rooms
Where candles flicked the glooms;
The jests old time could steal
From ugly destiny, on whose brink
The poor fools grappled fear with drink,
And snubbed the hungry raving guns
With endless tunes on gramophones.

About you spreads the world anew,
The old fields all for your sense rejoice,
Music has found her ancient voice,
From the hills there's heaven on earth to view;
And kindly Mirth will raise his glass
With you to bid dull Care go pass --
And still you wander muttering on
Over the shades of shadows gone.





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