"That time is dead for ever, child! Drowned, frozen, dead for ever! We look on the past And stare aghast At the spectres wailing, pale and ghast, Of hopes which thou and I beguiled To death on life's dark river." (P.B. Shelley in Lines) Visé (B)
"I knew a simple soldier boy Who grinned at life in empty joy, Slept soundly through the lonesome dark, And whistled early with the lark. In winter trenches, cowed and glum, With crumps and lice and lack of rum, He put a bullet through his brain. No one spoke of him again. * * * * * You snug-faced crowds with kindling eye Who cheer when soldier lads march by, Sneak home and pray you'll never know The hell where youth and laughter go."
(S.L. Sassoon in Suicide in the trenches)
"I dug a grave under an oak-tree. With infinite care, I stamped my spade Into the heavy grass. The sod sucked it, And I drew it out with effort, Watching the steel run liquid in the moonlight As it came clear. I stooped, and dug, and never turned, For behind me, On the dried leaves, My own face lay like a white pebble, Waiting." (Amy Lowell in Pictures from the floating world) Liège (B)