Materialer fra England:
Tekst A:
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| Ready To Start' by Sir William Orpen, (1917 |
Rupert Brooke (1887-1915)
IF I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is forever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by the suns of home.
And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.
IF I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is forever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by the suns of home.
And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.
(from the collection: 1914) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S6wPAp3Gy1E&feature=fvwrel Tekst BENGLAND TO FREE MENJohn Galsworthy (1867-1933)
1 Men of my blood, you English men! 2 From misty hill and misty fen, 3 From cot, and town, and plough, and moor, 4 Come in -- before I shut the door! 5 Into my courtyard paved with stones 6 That keep the names, that keep the bones, 7 Of none but English men who came 8 Free of their lives, to guard my fame.
Kealy,Parliamentary Recruiting Committee, London 1915 9 I am your native land who bred 10 No driven heart, no driven head; 11 I fly a flag in every sea 12 Round the old Earth, of Liberty! 13 I am the Land that boasts a crown; 14 The sun comes up, the sun goes down -- 15 And never men may say of me, 16 Mine is a breed that is not free.17 I have a wreath! My forehead wears 18 A hundred leaves -- a hundred years 19 I never knew the words: "You must!" 20 And shall my wreath return to dust? 21 Freemen! The door is yet ajar; 22 From northern star to southern star, 23 O ye who count and ye who delve, 24 Come in -- before my clock strikes twelve!(1917) Siegfried Sassoon (1886-1967)
Tekst C:SUICIDE IN THE TRENCHES (1918)
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| Eric Kennington "The Kensingtons at Laventie", 1916 |
5 In winter trenches, cowed and glum, 6 With crumps and lice and lack of rum, 7 He put a bullet through his brain. 8 No one spoke of him again.
9 You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye 10 Who cheer when soldier lads march by, 11 Sneak home and pray you'll never know 12 The hell where youth and laughter go.
(From the collection: Counter-Attack and other poems , 1918)
Tekst D: Siegfried Sassoon (1886-1967)
The Glory of Women
Kealey, "Women of Britain Say -- 'Go!'"
Parliamentary Recruiting Committee, London 1915
1 You love us when we're heroes, home on leave,
2 Or wounded in a mentionable place.
3 You worship decorations; you believe
4 That chivalry redeems the war's disgrace.
5 You make us shells. You listen with delight,
6 By tales of dirt and danger fondly thrilled.
7 You crown our distant ardours while we fight,
8 And mourn our laurelled memories when we're killed.
9 You can't believe that British troops 'retire'
10 When hell's last horror breaks them, and they run,
11 Trampling the terrible corpses - blind with blood.
12 O German mother dreaming by the fire,
13 While you are knitting socks to send your son
14 His face is trodden deeper in the mud
(October 1917)
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| Kealey, "Women of Britain Say -- 'Go!'" Parliamentary Recruiting Committee, London 1915 |
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Recruitment Songs:
Tekst E: Jessie Pope (1868-1941):
The Call (1915)
Who's for the trench— Are you, my laddie? Who'll follow French— Will you, my laddie? Who's fretting to begin, Who's going out to win? And who wants to save his skin— Do you, my laddie?
Who's for the khaki suit— Are you, my laddie? Who longs to charge and shoot— Do you, my laddie? Who's keen on getting fit, Who means to show his grit, And who'd rather wait a bit— Would you, my laddie? Who'll earn the Empire's thanks— Will you, my laddie? Who'll swell the victor's ranks— Will you, my laddie? When that procession comes, Banners and rolling drums— Who'll stand and bite his thumbs— Will you, my laddie?
Tekst F:Helen Clark:
Your King and Country Want You (1914)
1.
We've watched you playing cricket and every kind of game,At football, golf and polo you men have made your name.
But now your country calls you to play your part in war.
And no matter what befalls you
We shall love you all the more.
So come and join the forces
As your fathers did before.
Oh, we don't want to lose you, but we think you ought to go.
For your King and your country both need you so.
We shall want you and miss you,
But with all our might and main
We shall cheer you, thank you, bless you,
When you come home again.
2.We want you from all quarters, so help us South and North
We want you in your thousands,from Farmouth to the Forth
You’ll never find us fail you, when you are in distress
So answer when we hail you
And let your word be “yes”
And so your name in years to come
Each mother’s son shall bless
:Oh, we don’t want to lose you…:
3.
It’s easy for us women to stay at home and shout
But remember there’s a duty to the men who first went out.
The odds against a handful were nearly four to one.
And we cannot rest until
It’s man for man and gun for gun.
And every woman’s duty
Is to see that duty done
:Oh we don’t want to lose you…:
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