Now all roads lead to France and heavy is the tread
Of the living; but the dead returning lightly dance.
Edward Thomas, Roads

Saturday, June 27, 2020

On the Idle Hill of Summer: Europe on the Brink of War (BBC Video)


On the Idle Hill of Summer
BY A. E. HOUSMAN

On the idle hill of summer,
      Sleepy with the flow of streams,
Far I hear the steady drummer
      Drumming like a noise in dreams.

Far and near and low and louder
      On the roads of earth go by,
Dear to friends and food for powder,
      Soldiers marching, all to die.

East and west on fields forgotten
      Bleach the bones of comrades slain,
Lovely lads and dead and rotten;
      None that go return again.

Far the calling bugles hollo,
      High the screaming fife replies,
Gay the files of scarlet follow:
      Woman bore me, I will rise.





2 comments:

  1. A great poem indeed. Housman mysteriously gets to the heart of things.

    ReplyDelete
  2. That BBC series from 1964 is still the best on WWI.

    ReplyDelete