Category Archives: sassoon

Arms and the Man Young Croesus went to pay his call On Colonel Sawbones, Caxton Hall: And, though his wound was healed and mended, He hoped he’d get his leave extended. The waiting-room was dark and bare.He eyed a neat-framed … Continue reading →

In the Pink So Davies wrote: ‘This leaves me in the pink. Then scrawled his name: ‘Your loving sweetheart, Willie’. With crosses for a hug. He’d had a drink Of rum and tea; and, though the barn was chilly, For … Continue reading →

Secret Music I keep such music in my brain No din this side of death can quell; Glory exulting over pain, And beauty, garlanded in hell. My dreaming spirit will not heed The roar of guns that would destroy My … Continue reading →

To Any Dead Officer Well, how are things in Heaven? I wish you’d say, Because I’d like to know that you’re all right. Tell me, have you found everlasting day, Or been sucked in by everlasting night? For when I … Continue reading →

Repression of War Experience Now light the candles; one; two; there’s a moth; What silly beggars they are to blunder in And scorch their wings with glory, liquid flame– No, no, not that,–it’s bad to think of war, When thoughts … Continue reading →

The General ‘Good-morning; good-morning!’ the General said When we met him last week on our way to the line. Now the soldiers he smiled at are most of ’em dead, And we’re cursing his staff for incompetent swine. ‘He’s a … Continue reading →

Remorse Lost in the swamp and welter of the pit, He flounders off the duck-boards; only he knows Each flash and spouting crash, –each instant lit When gloom reveals the streaming rain. He goes Heavily, blindly on. And, while he … Continue reading →

Their Frailty He’s got a Blighty wound. He’s safe; and then War’s fine and bold and bright. She can forget the doomed and prisoned men Who agonize and fight. He’s back in France. She loathes the listless strain And peril … Continue reading →