Marlborough and other poems. Charles Hamilton Sorley
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Charles Hamilton Sorley
Marlborough and other poems
Published by Good Press, 2020
EAN 4064066068103
Table of Contents
THE SONG OF THE UNGIRT RUNNERS
WHOM THEREFORE WE IGNORANTLY WORSHIP
"ALL THE HILLS AND VALES ALONG"
"A HUNDRED THOUSAND MILLION MITES WE GO"
"THERE IS SUCH CHANGE IN ALL THOSE FIELDS"
"I HAVE NOT BROUGHT MY ODYSSEY"
Marlborough and other poems
PREFACE
The call for a new edition of these poems gives an opportunity for issuing them in a form which is intended to be definitive.
They are now arranged in four groups according to subject. It is true that all of them perhaps might be described by the title of one of these groups, as poems of life and thought. But some owe their inspiration directly to nature—to the wind-swept downs which the author loved and which he looked upon as "wise" as well as "wide"; a few reflect the experiences of school life; yet others show how his spirit faced the great adventure of war and death. Within each group the poems are printed, as nearly as may be, in the order of their composition, the title-poem being restored to its proper chronological place. When the date, exact or approximate, is known, it has been given; in those cases in which the date specifies the day of the month, it has been taken from the author's manuscript.
A single piece of imaginative prose is included amongst the poems. Other passages of prose were added to the third edition with the view of illustrating ideas occurring in the poems and prominent in the author's mind. With the exception of a few sentences from an early essay, these prose passages are all taken from familiar letters. To the present edition a few notes have been appended, in which some topical allusions are explained and what is known about the origin of the separate pieces is told.
The frontispiece is from a drawing in chalks by Mr. Cecil Jameson.
Of the author personally, and of what he was to his family and his friends, I do not speak. Yet I may quote the phrase used by a German lady in whose house he had been living for three months. "The time with him," she wrote, "was like a holiday and a feast-day." Many have felt what she put into words: though it was the graver moods of his mind that, for the most part,