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I. M. Parsons (1906–1980)

Auteur de Men Who March Away: Poems of the First World War

6 oeuvres 124 utilisateurs 1 Critiques

A propos de l'auteur

Œuvres de I. M. Parsons

Étiqueté

Partage des connaissances

Nom canonique
Parsons, I. M.
Nom légal
Parsons, Ian Macnaghten
Date de naissance
1906-05-21
Date de décès
1980-10-29
Sexe
male
Nationalité
UK
Pays (pour la carte)
England, UK
Lieu de naissance
Chelsea, London, England, UK
Lieu du décès
Kingston near Lewes, East Sussex, England, UK
Relations
Parsons, Trekkie Ritchie (wife)
Organisations
Publishers' Association

Membres

Critiques

Men Who March Away : Poems of the First World War
An Anthology, Edited with an Introduction by I. M. Parsons

“The roster of poets included in Men Who March Away:
Richard Aldington, Herbert Asquith, Laurence Binyon, Edmund Blunden, Rupert Brooke, G. K. Chesterton, Walter de la Mare, John Freeman, Wilfrid Wilson Gibbon, Robert Graves, Julian Grenfell, Ivon Gurney, Thomas Hardy, F. W. Harvey, A. P. Herbert, A. E. Housman, Rudyard Kipling, D. H. Lawrence, Charlotte Mew, Carold Monro, Robert Nichols, Wilfred Owen, Herbert Read, Isaac Rosenberg, Siegfried Sassoon, Fredegond Shove, Frank Sidgwick, Osbert Sitwell, Charles Sorley, Edward Thomas, Arthur Graeme West, T. P. Cameron Wilson, W. B. Yeats”

Notes:

The book title comes from ‘Men Who March Away’ (Song of the Soldiers; September 5, 1914), by Thomas Hardy. Here is one stanza:

What of the faith and fire within us
Men who march away
Ere the barn-cocks say
Night is growing gray,
Leaving all that here can win us;
What of the faith and fire within us
Men who march away?


And one from ’Mesoptamia’ (1917), by Rudyard Kipling.
They shall not return to us, the resolute, the young,
The eager and whole-hearted whom we gave:
But the men who left them thriftily to die in their own dung,
Shall they come with years and honour to the grave?


This poem, in its entirety: ’A Lament’ by - Wilfrid Wilson Gibson.

We who are left, how shall we look again
Happily on the sun, or feel the rain,
Without remembering how they who went
Ungrudgingly, and spent
Their all for us, loved, too, the sun and rain?

A bird among the rain-wet lilac sings –
But we, how shall we turn to little things
And listen to the birds and winds and streams
Made holy by their dreams,
Nor feel the heart-break in the heart of things?

Notes? I have not a single word to add.
… (plus d'informations)
 
Signalé
countrylife | Apr 28, 2014 |

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Statistiques

Œuvres
6
Membres
124
Popularité
#161,165
Évaluation
4.2
Critiques
1
ISBN
8
Langues
1

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