Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TO COLONEL CHARLES, by GEORGE MEREDITH Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: An english heart, my commandant Last Line: Where chlum drove deep in smoky jets. Subject(s): Austria; Social Protest; War | ||||||||
I AN English heart, my commandant, A soldier's eye you have, awake To right and left; with looks askant On bulwarks not of adamant, Where white our Channel waters break. II Where Grisnez winks at Dungeness Across the ruffled strip of salt, You look, and like the prospect less. On men and guns would you lay stress, To bid the Island's foemen halt. III While loud the Year is raising cry At birth to know if it must bear In history the bloody dye, An English heart, a soldier's eye, For the old country first will care. IV And how stands she, artillerist, Among the vapours waxing dense, With cannon charged? 'Tis hist! and hist! And now she screws a gouty fist, And now she counts to clutch her pence. V With shudders chill as aconite, The couchant chewer of the cud Will start at times in pussy fright Before the dogs, when reads her sprite The streaks predicting streams of blood. VI She thinks they may mean something; thinks They may mean nothing: haply both. Where darkness all her daylight drinks, She fain would find a leader lynx, Not too much taxing mental sloth. VII Cleft like the fated house in twain, One half is, Arm! and one, Retrench! Gambetta's word on dull MacMahon: 'The cow that sees a passing train': So spies she Russian, German, French. VIII She? no, her weakness: she unbraced Among those athletes fronting storms! The muscles less of steel than paste, Why, they of nature feel distaste For flash, much more for push, of arms. IX The poet sings, and well know we, That 'iron draws men after it.' But towering wealth may seem the tree Which bears the fruit Indemnity, And draw as fast as battle's fit, X If feeble be the hand on guard, Alas, alas! And nations are Still the mad forces, though the scarred. Should they once deem our emblem Pard Wagger of tail for all save war; -- XI Mechanically screwed to flail His flanks by Presses conjuring fear; -- A money-bag with head and tail; -- Too late may valour then avail! As you beheld, my cannonier, XII When with the staff of Benedek, On the plateau of Koniggratz, You saw below that wedgeing speck; Foresaw proud Austria rammed to wreck, Where Chlum drove deep in smoky jets. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I AM YOUR WAITER TONIGHT AND MY NAME IS DIMITRI by ROBERT HASS MITRAILLIATRICE by ERNEST HEMINGWAY RIPARTO D'ASSALTO by ERNEST HEMINGWAY WAR VOYEURS by JUAN FELIPE HERRERA THE DREAM OF WAKING by RANDALL JARRELL THE SURVIVOR AMONG GRAVES by RANDALL JARRELL SO MANY BLOOD-LAKES by ROBINSON JEFFERS DIRGE IN WOODS by GEORGE MEREDITH |
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