The original words "grow not old" are sometimes quoted as "not grow old." It has also been suggested that the word "condemn" should be " contemn," however "condemn" was used when the poem was first printed in The Times on 21 September 1914, and later in the anthology The Winnowing Fan: Poems of the Great War in 1914. The fourth stanza of the poem was written first, and includes the best known lines in the poem. The soldiers are "straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow," and though facing "odds uncounted" are "staunch to the end." It is less known than the fourth, despite occasionally being recited on Remembrance Day. The third stanza refers to soldiers marching to fight in the Battle of the Marne. The monosyllabic words of the second stanza echo "solemn, funereal drums." The stanza, like the first, espouses themes of "martial glorification." It describes war as "solemn," with a "music" and "glory" and compares death to "celestial music." Binyon personifies the United Kingdom as a " mother," and British soldiers as its "children." The poem remembers the deaths of soldiers while justifying the cause of their deaths as "the cause of the free": a theme carried throughout the rest of the poem. The first stanza establishes a patriotic element.
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain Īs the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness, To the innermost heart of their own land they are knownĪs the stars are known to the Night (21–24)Īs the stars that shall be bright when we are dust, (17–20)īut where our desires are and our hopes profound,įelt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight, They have no lot in our labour of the day-time They sit no more at familiar tables of home They mingle not with their laughing comrades again They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:Īge shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.Īt the going down of the sun and in the morning They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted: Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow. They went with songs to the battle, they were young, There is music in the midst of desolationĪnd a glory that shines upon our tears. Solemn the drums thrill Death august and royal With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,Įngland mourns for her dead across the sea.įlesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
0 kommentar(er)
