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Autor: Charles Hamilton Sorley

Poems: To Germany, Barbury Camp, Such Such is Death, All the Hills and Vales Along, When you See Millions of the Mouthless Dead.

Date of publication: 1916
Place of publication: England

INTRODUCTION

I have decided to comment a theme in the poems of this author because most of his poems talk about the same theme that is war, but each one talks about this theme in a different way.

HISTORIC CONTEXT

Charles Sorley was a poet of World War I. World War I was a conflict lasting from August 1914 to November 1917. In this war the allied powers defeated the central powers and led to the collapse of four empires and a radical change in the map of Europe. It is evident that living during World War I influenced the themes that he treated in his poems because most of them talk about war and death.

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His favourite pursuit was cross-country running in the rain that was an evident theme in many of his pre-war poems.

Source:www.wikipedia.com

THEME

In most of his poems Charles Sorley deals with the theme of war but in each of these poems he speaks about different aspects of this theme and what I’m going to do is to comment how he deals with this theme in which in my opinion are his most interesting five poems:

-To Germany: In this poem the author says that when there is a war everything is pain but when this war finishes peace come and everything becomes better, in my opinion it is true because things become a little better but after a war comes a bad period of poverty too.

-Barbury Camp: Here the author tells us the story of a battle in which the soldiers in addition to fighting against their enemies had to fight against meteorology because the weather was very cold, rainy and windy. I think that this happens in lot’s of wars like in the battle of Trafalgar.

-Such, Such is Death: In this poem the author tells us that in all wars soldiers of the two sides die and he says that this is a very sad thing, in this poem the author tells us how the death is in a war, too. In my opinion this is the worst thing of the wars because humble people die to make richer some of the richest persons in the world.

-When you see millions of the Mouthless dead: In this poem the author makes a homage to all the soldiers that have lost their lifes at wars. In my opinion this homage is very well deserved by this people because I think that they are heroes.

-All the Hills and Vales Along: In this poem the author tells us that all the soldiers are very valiant because although they know that their death is very possible in each battle they sing songs while they are going to fight. I think that courage is an essential characteristic of a soldier because they are going to give their lifes for their country.

An interesting thing in the theme of these poems is that in most of them the author in addition to speaking about war he speaks about death too, in my opinion it is because at wars death is a very common thing.

PERSONAL RESPONSE

In my opinion a war is always a bad thing because in this conflicts a lot of people die for a thing that is possible to solve speaking and it’s not necessary to use violence but I think that sometimes this kind of conflicts are justified because what a country can’t do is to allow that other countries make use of them so then I think that it is necessary that this countries try to defend themselves.

CONCLUSION

I have enjoyed a lot making this paper because I have discovered that a good way to understand what an author thinks about a theme is to study how he deals with this theme in all his works.

SOURCES

-MLA(single author): Sorley, Charles Hamilton, in pail battalions from these lines, To Germany; Barbury Camp; Such Such is Death; All the Hills and Vales Along; When you See Millions of the Mouthless death, England, 1916.

-URL: http://www.poemhunter.com

-Other sources: http://www.wikipedia.com , http://www.google.es

1-When You See Millions of the Mouthless Dead

When you see millions of the mouthless dead
Across your dreams in pale battalions go,
Say not soft things as other men have said,
That you'll remember. For you need not so.
Give them not praise. For, deaf, how should they know
It is not curses heaped on each gashed head?
Nor tears. Their blind eyes see not your tears flow.
Nor honour. It is easy to be dead.
Say only this, "They are dead." Then add thereto,
"Yet many a better one has died before."
Then, scanning all the o'ercrowded mass, should you
Perceive one face that you loved heretofore,
It is a spook. None wears the face you knew.
Great death has made all his for evermore.

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2-All the Hills and Vales Along


All the hills and vales along
Earth is bursting into song,
And the singers are the chaps
Who are going to die perhaps.
O sing, marching men,
Till the valleys ring again.
Give your gladness to earth's keeping,
So be glad, when you are sleeping.

Cast away regret and rue,
Think what you are marching to.
Little live, great pass.
Jesus Christ and Barabbas
Were found the same day.
This died, that went his way.
So sing with joyful breath,
For why, you are going to death.
Teeming earth will surely store
All the gladness that you pour.

Earth that never doubts nor fears,
Earth that knows of death, not tears,
Earth that bore with joyful ease
Hemlock for Socrates,
Earth that blossomed and was glad
'Neath the cross that Christ had,
Shall rejoice and blossom too
When the bullet reaches you.
Wherefore, men marching
On the road to death, sing!
Pour your gladness on earth's head,
So be merry, so be dead.

From the hills and valleys earth
Shouts back the sound of mirth,
Tramp of feet and lilt of sing
Ringing all the road along.
All the music of their going,
Ringing swinging glad song-throwing,
Earth will echo still, when foot
Lies numb and voice mute.
On, marching men, on
To the gates of death with song.
Sow your gladness for earth's reaping,
So you may be glad, though sleeping.
Strew your gladness on earth's bed,
So be merry, so be dead.

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3-To Germany

You are blind like us. Your hurt no man designed,
And no man claimed the conquest of your land.
But gropers both through fields of thought confined
We stumble and we do not understand.
You only saw your future bigly planned,
And we, the tapering paths of our own mind,
And in each other's dearest ways we stand,
And hiss and hate. And the blind fight the blind.

When it is peace, then we may view again
With new-won eyes each other's truer form
And wonder. Grown more loving-kind and warm
We'll grasp firm hands and laugh at the old pain,
When it is peace. But until peace, the storm
The darkness and the thunder and the rain.

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4-Barbury Camp


We burrowed night and day with tools of lead,
Heaped the bank up and cast it in a ring
And hurled the earth above. And Caesar said,
"Why, it is excellent. I like the thing."
We, who are dead,
Made it, and wrought, and Caesar liked the thing.

And here we strove, and here we felt each vein
Ice-bound, each limb fast-frozen, all night long.
And here we held communion with the rain
That lashed us into manhood with its thong,
Cleansing through pain.
And the wind visited us and made us strong.

Up from around us, numbers without name,
Strong men and naked, vast, on either hand
Pressing us in, they came. And the wind came
And bitter rain, turning grey all the land.
That was our game,
To fight with men and storms, and it was grand.

For many days we fought them, and our sweat
Watered the grass, making it spring up green,
Blooming for us. And, if the wind was wet,
Our blood wetted the wind, making it keen
With the hatred
And wrath and courage that our blood had been.

So, fighting men and winds and tempests, hot
With joy and hate and battle-lust, we fell
Where we fought. And God said, "Killed at last then? What!
Ye that are too strong for heaven, too clean for hell,
(God said) stir not.
This be your heaven, or, if ye will, your hell."

So again we fight and wrestle, and again
Hurl the earth up and cast it in a ring.
But when the wind comes up, driving the rain
(Each rain-drop a fiery steed), and the mists rolling
Up from the plain,
This wild procession, this impetuous thing.

Hold us amazed. We mount the wind-cars, then
Whip up the steeds and drive through all the world,
Searching to find somewhere some brethren,
Sons of the winds and waters of the world.
We, who were men,
Have sought, and found no men in all this world.

Wind, that has blown here always ceaselessly,
Bringing, if any man can understand,
Might to the mighty, freedom to the free;
Wind, that has caught us, cleansed us, made us grand,
Wind that is we
(We that were men) -- make men in all this land,

That so may live and wrestle and hate that when
They fall at last exultant, as we fell,
And come to God, God may say, "Do you come then
Mildly enquiring, is it heaven or hell?
Why! Ye were men!
Back to your winds and rains. Be these your heaven and hell!"

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5-Such, Such Is Death

Such, such is Death: no triumph: no defeat:
Only an empty pail, a slate rubbed clean,
A merciful putting away of what has been.

And this we know: Death is not Life, effete,
Life crushed, the broken pail. We who have seen
So marvellous things know well the end not yet.

Victor and vanquished are a-one in death:
Coward and brave: friend, foe. Ghosts do not say,
"Come, what was your record when you drew breath?"
But a big blot has hid each yesterday
So poor, so manifestly incomplete.
And your bright Promise, withered long and sped,
Is touched, stirs, rises, opens and grows sweet
And blossoms and is you, when you are dead.

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