Latest / Edgar Allan Poe Poems / Ardours and Endurances-Robert Nichols

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Ardours and Endurances-Robert Nichols · Edgar Allan Poe Poems

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  Speaker 1: Introduction to Ardors and Endurances. This is a LibriVox recording.
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  Speaker 1: All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more
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  Speaker 1: information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org. Recording
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  Speaker 1: by Diana Schmidt. Ardors and Endurances by Robert Nichols. Excerpt
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  Speaker 1: from an introduction to the Scientific Study of English Poetry
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  Speaker 1: by Mark Ledell. My thanks are due to the editor
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  Speaker 1: of The Times and of the Nation, to the editors
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  Speaker 1: of the Palatine Review, and to Messrs Blackwell Oxford, the
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  Speaker 1: publishers of Oxford Poetry nineteen fifteen and Oxford Poetry nineteen
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  Speaker 1: sixteen for permission to reprint certain of these poems. R. M.
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  Speaker 1: B n nineteen seventeen, introduction One of the nature of
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  Speaker 1: the poet. We are often so impressed by the power
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  Speaker 1: of poetry that we think of it as something made
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  Speaker 1: by a wonderful and unusual person. We do not realize
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  Speaker 1: the fact that all the wonder and marvel is in
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  Speaker 1: our own brains, That the poet is ourselves. He speaks
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  Speaker 1: our language better than we do, merely because he is
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  Speaker 1: more skillful with it than we are. His skill is
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  Speaker 1: part of our skill, his power of our power. Generations
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  Speaker 1: of English speaking men and women have made us sensible
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  Speaker 1: to these things. And our sensibility comes from the same
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  Speaker 1: source that the poet's power of stimulating it comes from.
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  Speaker 1: Given a little more sensitiveness to external stimuli, a little
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  Speaker 1: more power of associating ideas, a coordination of the functions
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  Speaker 1: of expression somewhat more apt, a sense of rhythm somewhat
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  Speaker 1: keener than the average. Given these things, we should be
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  Speaker 1: poets too, Even as he is, he is one of us.
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  Speaker 1: Two of what English poetry consists. English poetry is not
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  Speaker 1: a rhythm of sound, but a rhythm of ideas, and
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  Speaker 1: the flow of attention stresses i e. Varying qualities of
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  Speaker 1: words and cadence, which determines its beauty is inseparably connected
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  Speaker 1: with the thought, for each of them is a judgment
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  Speaker 1: of identity, or a judgment of relation, or an expression
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  Speaker 1: of relation, and not a thing of mere empty sound.
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  Speaker 1: He who would think of it as a pleasing arrangement
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  Speaker 1: of vocal sounds has missed all chance of ever understanding
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  Speaker 1: its meaning. There awaits him only the barren generalities of
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  Speaker 1: a foreign prosody tedious, pedantic, fruitless, and he will flounder
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  Speaker 1: ceaselessly amid the scattered timbers of its iambuses, spondee, dactyls, tribrachs,
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  Speaker 1: never reaching the firm ground of truth. An Introduction to
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  Speaker 1: the Scientific Study of English Poetry by Mark Liddell, published
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  Speaker 1: by Grant Richards nineteen o two. This remarkable book, establishing
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  Speaker 1: English poetry as a thing governed from within by its
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  Speaker 1: own necessities, and not by rules of esthetics imposed on
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  Speaker 1: it from without, formulates principles which, unperceived, have governed English
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  Speaker 1: poetry from the earliest times, which find their greatest exemplar
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  Speaker 1: in Shakespeare, and which, though beginning to be realized by
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  Speaker 1: the less pedantic of the moderns, are in its pages
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  Speaker 1: for the first time lucidity expounded, and such is their adequacy,
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  Speaker 1: can in the end only be regarded as indubitably proven. R. M.
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  Speaker 1: B n nineteen seventeen. And of introduction.
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  Speaker 2: The Summons one two by Robert Nicholls Readfourlibervoss dot Org
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  Speaker 2: by Ian King two. Asleep within the deadest hour of night,
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  Speaker 2: and turning with the earth, I was aware how suddenly
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  Speaker 2: the eastern curve was bright as when the sun rises
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  Speaker 2: from his lair. But not the sun arose it was
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  Speaker 2: thy hair shaken up heaven in tossing leagues of light.
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  Speaker 2: Since then I know that neither night nor day may
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  Speaker 2: I escape thee. O, my heavenly Hell, awake in dreams,
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  Speaker 2: thou springest to waylay. And should I dare to die,
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  Speaker 2: I know full well whose voice would mock me in
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  Speaker 2: the mourning bell? Whose face would greet me in Hell's
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  Speaker 2: fiery way? End of poem. This recording is in the
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  Speaker 2: public domain. The Summons Too the Past by Robert Nichols
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  Speaker 2: read fully prevossed at Org by Ian King The Past?
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  Speaker 2: How to escape the bondage of the past? I fly
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  Speaker 2: thee Yet my spirit finds no calms save when she
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  Speaker 2: deems her rocked within those arms to which from which
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  Speaker 2: she ne'er was caught, or cast O sadness of a
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  Speaker 2: heart so spent in vain that drank its age's fuel
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  Speaker 2: in an hour, for whom the whole world burning had
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  Speaker 2: not power to quick with life the small wig again.
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  Speaker 2: End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
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  Speaker 2: The Summons three The Reckoning by Robert Nichols Readfourlibrivos dot
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  Speaker 2: Org by Ian King. The Reckoning, The whole world burns,
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  Speaker 2: and with it burns my flesh. Arise thou spirit spent
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  Speaker 2: by sterile tears. Thine eyes were ardent, once thy looks
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  Speaker 2: were fresh, Thy brow shone bright amid thy shining peers.
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  Speaker 2: Fame calls thee, not thou who hast vainly strayed so
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  Speaker 2: far for her, nor passion, who in the past gave
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  Speaker 2: thee her ghost to wed and to be paid, Nor love,
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  Speaker 2: whose anguish only learned to last honor. It is that calls.
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  Speaker 2: Canst thou forget once thou wert strong, listen the solemn
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  Speaker 2: call sounds, But this once again put by regret for
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  Speaker 2: summons missed, or thou hast missed them. All body is ready,
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  Speaker 2: fortune pleased. Oh, let not the poor past cost the
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  Speaker 2: proud futures fall. End of poem. This recording is in
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  Speaker 2: public domain. Farewell to Place of Comfort by Robert Nichols
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  Speaker 2: Read four librevoxter at org by Ian King. Farewell to
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  Speaker 2: place of Comfort for the last time may be upon
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  Speaker 2: the knoll I stand. The eve is golden, languid, sad
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  Speaker 2: like a tragic actor, plays his role to the last
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  Speaker 2: whispered word and fools gold clad, I too take leave
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  Speaker 2: of all I ever had they shall not say I
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  Speaker 2: went with heavy heart. Heavy I am, but soon I
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  Speaker 2: shall be free. I love them all, but O I
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  Speaker 2: now depart a little, sadly, strangely, fearfully, as one who
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  Speaker 2: goes to try a mystery. The bell is sounding down
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  Speaker 2: in deadham veil. Be still, O bell, too often standing here,
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  Speaker 2: when all the air was tremulous, fine and pale, thy,
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  Speaker 2: golden note, so calm, so still, so clear. Out of
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  Speaker 2: my stony heart has struck a tear, And now tears
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  Speaker 2: are not mine. I have released from all the former
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  Speaker 2: and the later pain. Like the mid sea, I rock
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  Speaker 2: in boundless peace, soothed by the charity of the deep sea. Rain. Calm, rain, calm, sea,
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  Speaker 2: calm found long sought in vain oh bronze and pines,
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  Speaker 2: evening of gold and blue, steep, mellow slope, brimmed twilight
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  Speaker 2: pools below, hushed trees, still veil, dissolving in the dew. Farewell, Farewell,
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  Speaker 2: there is no more to do. We have been happy, happy,
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  Speaker 2: Now I go. End of poem. This recording is in
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  Speaker 2: the public domain.
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  Speaker 3: The approach one in the grass hold by Roadside by
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  Speaker 3: Robert Nichols read four LibriVox dot org by recording Person
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  Speaker 3: one in the grass hate by roadside, In my tired,
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  Speaker 3: helpless body, I feel my sunk heart ache. But suddenly,
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  Speaker 3: loudly the far the great guns shake. Is it sudden?
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  Speaker 3: Terror burdens my heart? My hand flies to my head.
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  Speaker 3: I listen and do not understand. Is death so near? Then?
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  Speaker 3: From this blaze of light do I plunge suddenly into
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  Speaker 3: vortex night guns again? The quiet shakes at the vengeful voice.
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  Speaker 3: It is terrible pleasure. I do not fear. I rejoice.
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  Speaker 3: End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
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  Speaker 3: The Approach Too, The Day's March by Robert Nichols read
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  Speaker 3: for Librevox dot Org. By recording Person two, The Day's March.
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  Speaker 3: The battery grides and jingles miles succeeds to mile, shaking
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  Speaker 3: the noonday sunshine. The guns ungj out a while, and
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  Speaker 3: then are still Awhile we ambled along the highway, the
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  Speaker 3: reeking powdery dust ascends and cakes hell faces with a
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  Speaker 3: strip sweaty crust under the still sky's violet. The hard
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  Speaker 3: throbs on the air. The white road's dusty radiance assumes
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  Speaker 3: a dark glare, with a head hot and heavy, and
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  Speaker 3: eyes that cannot rest. And a black heart's burning in
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  Speaker 3: a stifled breast. I sit in the saddle. I feel
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  Speaker 3: the road unroll, and keep my senses straightened towards to
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  Speaker 3: morrow's goal. There over unknown meadows which we must reach
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  Speaker 3: at last day and night, thunders are black and chilly.
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  Speaker 3: Blast heads forget heaviness, hearts, forget spleen. For by that
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  Speaker 3: mighty winnowing being is blow and clean light in the
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  Speaker 3: eyes again, strength in the hand. A spirit dares, dies,
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  Speaker 3: forgives and can understand, and best love comes back again
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  Speaker 3: after grief and shame, And along the wind of death
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  Speaker 3: rows a clean flame. The battery grides and jingles, miles
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  Speaker 3: succeeds to mile, suddenly battering the silence. The guns burst
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  Speaker 3: out a while I lift my head and smile. End
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  Speaker 3: of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The
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  Speaker 3: Approach three Nearer by Robert Nichols readfo librovox dot Org
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  Speaker 3: by recording person. The approach three nearer nearer and ever nearer.
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  Speaker 3: My body, tired but tense, hovers TwixT bade pleasure and
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  Speaker 3: tremulous confidence, arms to have and to use them, and
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  Speaker 3: a soul to be made worthy if not worthy, if
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  Speaker 3: afraid unafraid to endure for a little, to endure, and
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  Speaker 3: have done men I love about me, over me the sun,
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  Speaker 3: and should at last suddenly fly the speeding death. The
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  Speaker 3: foregreat quarters of heaven receive this little breath. End of poem.
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  Speaker 3: This recording is in the public domain.
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  Speaker 4: Battle one Noon by Robert Nichols, red for LibriVox dot
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  Speaker 4: Org by Nimo One noon. It is midday. The deep
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  Speaker 4: trench glares a buzz and blaze of flies. The hot
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  Speaker 4: wind puffs the giddy airs, the great sun rakes the skies.
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  Speaker 4: No sound in all the stagnant trench, where forty standing
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  Speaker 4: men endure, the sweat and grit and stench like cattle
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  Speaker 4: in a pen. Sometimes a sniper's bullet whirs are Twain's
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  Speaker 4: the whining wire. Sometimes a soldier sighs and stirs, as
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  Speaker 4: in Hell's frying fire. From out a high cool cloud
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  Speaker 4: descends an aeroplane's far a moan. The sun strikes down,
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  Speaker 4: the thin cloud rends, the black speck travels on and sweating, dizzied,
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  Speaker 4: isolate in the hot trench. Beneath we bide the next
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  Speaker 4: shrewd move of fate, be it of life or death.
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  Speaker 4: And a poem This recording is in the public domain.
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  Speaker 4: Battle two Night Bombardment by Robert Nichols read for LibriVox
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  Speaker 4: Stadorg by NEMO two Night Bombardment. Softly in the silence,
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  Speaker 4: the evening rain descends. The soft wind lifts the rain,
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  Speaker 4: mist flurries it, and spends its grief in mournful sighs,
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  Speaker 4: drifting from field to field, soaking the draggled sprays which
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  Speaker 4: the low hedges wheel as they labor in the wet
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  Speaker 4: and the load of the wind. The last light is dimming.
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  Speaker 4: Night comes on behind. I hear no sound but the
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  Speaker 4: wind in the rain, and trample of horses, loud and
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  Speaker 4: lost again, where the wagons in the mist rumble dimly
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  Speaker 4: on bringing more shell. The last bleam is gone. It
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  Speaker 4: is not day or night, only the mist unroll and
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  Speaker 4: blind with their sorrow the sight of my soul. I
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  Speaker 4: hear the wind weeping in the hollow overhead. She goes
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  Speaker 4: searching for the forgotten dead, hidden in the hedges, or
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  Speaker 4: trodden and muck under the trenches, or maybe limply stuck
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  Speaker 4: somewhere in the branches of a high, lonely tree. He
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  Speaker 4: was a sniper once. They never found his body. I
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  Speaker 4: see the misdrifting. I hear the wind and rain, and
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  Speaker 4: on my clammy face, the oozed breath of the slain
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  Speaker 4: seems to be blowing almost. I have heard in the
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  Speaker 4: shuddering drift the lost dead's last word, go home, Go home,
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  Speaker 4: Go to my house. Knock at the door, knock hard,
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  Speaker 4: arouse my wife and the children that you must do.
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  Speaker 4: What do you say? Tell the children too, Knock at
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  Speaker 4: the door, knock hard, arouse the living, say the dead
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  Speaker 4: won't come back to this house. Oh but it's cold.
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  Speaker 4: I sulk in the rain. Shrapnel found me. I shan't
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  Speaker 4: come home again. No, not home again. The morning voices
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  Speaker 4: trail away into rain, into darkness. The pale sowing of
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  Speaker 4: the night drifts on in between. The voices were as
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  Speaker 4: if the dead had never been O melancholy heavens, Oh,
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  Speaker 4: melancholy fields. The glad full darkness grows complete and shields
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  Speaker 4: me from your appeal. With a terrible delight. I hear
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  Speaker 4: far guns low like oxen at the night. Flames disrupt
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  Speaker 4: the sky. The work is begun action by guns crash, flame, rock,
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  Speaker 4: and stun again and again. Soon the sowing night is
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  Speaker 4: loud with their clamor and leaps with their light. The
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  Speaker 4: imperative chorus rises sonorous and fell. My heart glows lighted
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  Speaker 4: as by fires of hell, sharply, I pass the terse
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  Speaker 4: orders down, the guns blaring rock, The hissing rain is
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  Speaker 4: blown athwart the hurtled shell, That shrilling, shrilling, goes away
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  Speaker 4: into the dark to burst a cloud of rose over
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  Speaker 4: German trenches. A pause. I stand in sea, lifting into
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  Speaker 4: the night like founts incessantly. The pistol lights pale spores
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  Speaker 4: upon the glimmering air under them, furrowed trenches empty, pallid, bare,
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  Speaker 4: and rain snowing trenchward, ghostly and white, Oh dead in
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  Speaker 4: the hedges, sleep ye well tonight and a poem. This
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  Speaker 4: recording is in the public domain. Battle three Comrades an
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  Speaker 4: episode by Robert Nichols, read for LibriVox dot org by
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  Speaker 4: Nemo three comrades an episode Before before he was aware,
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  Speaker 4: the very light had risen on the air. It hung glistering,
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  Speaker 4: and he could not stay his hand from moving to
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  Speaker 4: the barbed wire's broken strand a rifle cracked. He fell night, waned,
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  Speaker 4: he was alone. A heavy shell whispered itself, passing high
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  Speaker 4: high overhead. His wound was wet to his hand, for
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  Speaker 4: still it bled on to the glimmering ground. Then, with
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  Speaker 4: a slow, vain smile his wound he bound, knowing, of
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  Speaker 4: course he'd not see home again. Home, whose thought he
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  Speaker 4: put away. His men whispered, wheer's mister Gates out on
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  Speaker 4: the wire. I'll get him, said one. Dawn blinked, and
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  Speaker 4: the fire of the Germans heaved up and down the line.
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  Speaker 4: Stand too too late, I'll get him, oh the swine,
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  Speaker 4: when we might get him in yet safe and whole.
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  Speaker 4: Corporal didn't see him fall out on patrol are he'd
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  Speaker 4: a got on sh no talking there a whisper, I
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  Speaker 4: went down at the last flare. Meanwhile, the maxims toc
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  Speaker 4: toc talked, their swish of bullets, told death lurked against
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  Speaker 4: the wish, no hope for him, his corporal as one
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  Speaker 4: shamed vainly and helplessly, his ill luck blamed. Then Gates
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  Speaker 4: slowly saw the morn break in a rosy piece through
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  Speaker 4: the lone thorn by which he lay, and felt the
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  Speaker 4: dawn wind pass whispering through the pallid, stalky grass of
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  Speaker 4: no Man's land, and the tears came scolingly sweet, more
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  Speaker 4: lovely than a flame. He closed his eyes. He thought
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  Speaker 4: of home and gritted his teeth. He knew no help
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  Speaker 4: could come. The silent sun over the earth held sway.
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  Speaker 4: Occasional rifles cracked, and far away a heedless speck a
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  Speaker 4: plain slid on alone, like a fly traversing a cliff
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  Speaker 4: of stone. I must get back, said Gates aloud, and
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  Speaker 4: heaved at his body, but it lay bereaved of any power.
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  Speaker 4: He could not wait till night, and he lay still.
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  Speaker 4: Blood swam across his sight. Then with a groan, no
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  Speaker 4: luck ever, well, I must die alone. Occasional rifles cracked
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  Speaker 4: a cloud that shone gold, rimmed black in the sun,
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  Speaker 4: and then was gone. The sun still smiled, the grass
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  Speaker 4: sang in its play. Someone whistled over the hills, and
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  Speaker 4: far away Gates watched silently, the swift, swift sun, burning
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  Speaker 4: his life before it was begun. Suddenly he heard Corporal
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  Speaker 4: Timmins's voice. Now, then, hurry up with that tea high
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  Speaker 4: ginger bill. His men, Timmins and Jones and Wilkinson, the
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  Speaker 4: Bard and Hughes and Simpson. It was hard not to
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  Speaker 4: see them, Wilcotson stubby grim with his no, sir, yes sir,
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  Speaker 4: and the slim Simpson, indeed, sir, while it seemed he
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  Speaker 4: winked because his smiling left eye always blinked, and Corporal Timmins,
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  Speaker 4: straight and blonde and wise, with his quiet, scanning level
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  Speaker 4: hazel eyes, and all the others tunics that didn't fit
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  Speaker 4: a dozen different sorts of eyes. Oh, it was hard
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  Speaker 4: to lie there yet he must. But no, I've got
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  Speaker 4: to die. I'll get to them. I'll go inch by inch.
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  Speaker 4: He fought, breathless and mute, dragging his carcase like a
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  Speaker 4: famished brute. His head was hammering, and his eyes were dim.
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  Speaker 4: A bloody sweat seemed to ooze out of him and
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  Speaker 4: freeze along his spine. Then he'd lie still before another
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  Speaker 4: effort of his will took him one nearer yard. The
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  Speaker 4: parapet was reached, he could not rise to it. A
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  Speaker 4: lookout screeched mister Gates. Three figures in one breath, leaped up.
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  Speaker 4: Two figures fell and toppling death, and Gates was lifted in.
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  Speaker 4: Who's hit? Said he Timmins and Jones, Why did they
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  Speaker 4: that for me? I'm gone already? Gently They laid him
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  Speaker 4: prone and silently watched he twitched. They heard him moan.
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  Speaker 4: Why for me. His eyes roamed round, and none replied.
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  Speaker 4: I see it was alone. I should have died. They
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  Speaker 4: shook their heads. Then is the doctor here. He's coming, sir,
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  Speaker 4: He's hurryin no fear, no good. Lift me. They lifted him.
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  Speaker 4: He smiled and held his arms out to the dim
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  Speaker 4: and in a moment passed beyond their ken, hearing him whisper, Oh,
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  Speaker 4: my men, my men. In Hospital, London, Autumn nineteen fifteen,
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  Speaker 4: and a poem. This recording is in the public domain.
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  Speaker 4: Battle four Behind the Lines Knight, France by Robert Nichols
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  Speaker 4: read for LibriVox dot Org by Nemo. Four Behind the
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  Speaker 4: Lines Knight, France. At the crossroads, I halt and stand
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  Speaker 4: stocks still. The linked and flickering constellations climb slowly the
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  Speaker 4: spread black heaven's immensity. The wind wanders like a thought
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  Speaker 4: at fault within the close shuddered cottage. Nigh I hear
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  Speaker 4: while its fearful aged master sleeps like the dead. A
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  Speaker 4: slow clock chime with solemn thrill, the most somber hour
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  Speaker 4: of time and sea stand in the cottage's garden chill.
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  Speaker 4: The two white crosses, one at each grave's head. Oh France, France, France.
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  Speaker 4: I loved you, love you still, But oh why took you?
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  Speaker 4: Not my life instead? And a poem. This recording is
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  Speaker 4: in the public domain. Battle five at the Wars by
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  Speaker 4: Robert Nichols read for LibriVox dot Org by Nemo. Five
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  Speaker 4: at the Wars. Now that I am taken away and
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  Speaker 4: may not see another day? What is it to my
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  Speaker 4: eye appears? What sound rings in my stricken ears? Not
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  Speaker 4: even the voice of any friend or eyes beloved, whirled
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  Speaker 4: without end, but scenes and sounds of the countryside in
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  Speaker 4: far England, across the tide, in upland field, when springs
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  Speaker 4: begun mellow beneath the evening sun, a circle of loose
• 29:00
  Speaker 4: and lichened wall, over which seven red pines fall, an
• 29:06
  Speaker 4: orchard of wizen blossoming trees, wherein the nesting chaffinches begin
• 29:12
  Speaker 4: again the self same song, all the late April daytime
• 29:18
  Speaker 4: long pass that lead a shelving chorus between the chalk
• 29:23
  Speaker 4: scarp and the gorse by English downs and Oh too well.
• 29:29
  Speaker 4: I hear the hidden clanking bell of wandering sheep. I
• 29:35
  Speaker 4: see the brown twilight of the huge empty down, soon
• 29:40
  Speaker 4: blotted out for now A lane glitters with warmth of
• 29:46
  Speaker 4: maytime rain, and on a shooting briar. I see a
• 29:50
  Speaker 4: yellow bird who sings to me, Oh yellow hammer. Once
• 29:56
  Speaker 4: I heard thy yaffle, when no other could to my
• 30:01
  Speaker 4: sunk heart comfort bring. But now I would not have
• 30:05
  Speaker 4: thee sing so sharp thy note is with the pain
• 30:10
  Speaker 4: of England. I may not see again. Yet sing thy song.
• 30:16
  Speaker 4: There answereth deep in me, A voice which saith the
• 30:21
  Speaker 4: gorse upon the twilight, down the English loam, so sunset brown,
• 30:28
  Speaker 4: the bowed pines, and the sheep bells clamor the wet
• 30:33
  Speaker 4: lit lane, and the yellow hammer, the orchard and the chaffinch.
• 30:39
  Speaker 4: Song Only to the brave belong, and he shall lose
• 30:46
  Speaker 4: their joy for ay, if their price he cannot pay,
• 30:50
  Speaker 4: who shall find them dear far enriched by blood after
• 30:57
  Speaker 4: long war and a poem. This recording is in the
• 31:03
  Speaker 4: public domain battle six out of Trenches The Barn Twilight
• 31:15
  Speaker 4: by Robert Nichols read for LibriVox dot Org by Nemo
• 31:22
  Speaker 4: Six out of Trenches, The Barn Twilight. In the raftered barn,
• 31:31
  Speaker 4: we lie, sprawl, scrawl, post cards, laugh and speak just
• 31:38
  Speaker 4: mere men, a trifle weary, worn in heart, a trifle
• 31:43
  Speaker 4: week because all weigh at close of day thought steals
• 31:50
  Speaker 4: to England far away alf o A get us a
• 31:58
  Speaker 4: tomb mate, Well say swipe the policeman's ali day tittle.
• 32:05
  Speaker 4: It'll um tum tum tum, sprawling on my aching back,
• 32:12
  Speaker 4: think I not, but I am glad. Dear rare lads
• 32:17
  Speaker 4: of pick and pack, ay me too. I'm sad. I'm sad.
• 32:25
  Speaker 4: Some must die. Maybe I O pray it take them suddenly, Bill,
• 32:34
  Speaker 4: what ho concertina, let it go. If you were the
• 32:39
  Speaker 4: only girl, cheer oh, if you were the only girl,
• 32:44
  Speaker 4: damn abide with me? Not now well, if you must
• 32:51
  Speaker 4: just your way, it racks me till the tears nigh flow.
• 32:57
  Speaker 4: The tune sea saws. I turn. I pray behind my hand, shaken,
• 33:04
  Speaker 4: unmanned in groans, that God may understand miracle. Let let
• 33:12
  Speaker 4: them all survive this hell here, Trumpeter, what are you sounding?
• 33:17
  Speaker 4: Swell my God, I guess indeed too well. The broken
• 33:23
  Speaker 4: heart eyes front proud knell grant but mine sound with
• 33:30
  Speaker 4: their farewell. It's the last post, unsounding and a poem.
• 33:38
  Speaker 4: This recording is in the public domain. Battle seven Battery
• 33:48
  Speaker 4: moving up to a new position from rust Camp Dawn
• 33:53
  Speaker 4: by Robert Nichols Read for LibriVox dot org by Nemo
• 33:59
  Speaker 4: seven battery, moving up to a new position from rest
• 34:03
  Speaker 4: camp dawn not a sign of life we rouse in
• 34:09
  Speaker 4: any square, close shuttered house that flanks the road. We
• 34:14
  Speaker 4: amble down toward far trenches. Through the town. The dark snow, slushy,
• 34:20
  Speaker 4: empty street, tingle of frost and brow and feet. Horse
• 34:26
  Speaker 4: breath goes dimly up like smoke, no sound, but the
• 34:30
  Speaker 4: smacking stroke of a sergeant flings each arm out and
• 34:35
  Speaker 4: a cross to keep him warm. And the sudden splashing
• 34:39
  Speaker 4: crack of ice pools broken by our track. More dark houses,
• 34:46
  Speaker 4: yet no sign of life, and axles creek and wine,
• 34:51
  Speaker 4: the splash of hoofs, the strain of trace clatter. We
• 34:55
  Speaker 4: cross the marketplace, deep clide again, and on we lurch
• 35:01
  Speaker 4: under the shadow of a church. Its tower ascends, fog
• 35:07
  Speaker 4: wreathed and grim. Within its aisles. A light burns dim
• 35:14
  Speaker 4: when marvelous from overhead, like abrupt speech of one deemed dead,
• 35:21
  Speaker 4: speech moved by some superior will. A bell tolls thrice
• 35:28
  Speaker 4: and then is still, And suddenly I know that now
• 35:34
  Speaker 4: the priest within, with shining brow, lifts high the small
• 35:39
  Speaker 4: round of the host. The server's tingling bell is lost,
• 35:44
  Speaker 4: and clash of the greater overhead. Peace like a wave descends,
• 35:50
  Speaker 4: is spread while watch the peasant's reverent eyes. The bell's
• 35:55
  Speaker 4: bloom trembles, hangs and dies. O people who bow down
• 36:01
  Speaker 4: to see the miracle of calvalry, the bitter and the glorious,
• 36:08
  Speaker 4: bow down, Bow down, and pray for us once more,
• 36:13
  Speaker 4: our anguished way we take toward our Gogatha to make
• 36:18
  Speaker 4: for all our lovers sacrifice again. The troubled bell tolls
• 36:23
  Speaker 4: thrice and slowly, slowly lifted up, dazzles the overflowing cup,
• 36:31
  Speaker 4: Oh worshiping fond multitude, Remember us too and our blood.
• 36:40
  Speaker 4: Turn hearts to us as we go by, Salute those
• 36:44
  Speaker 4: about to die, Plead for them the deep bell toll
• 36:50
  Speaker 4: their sacrifice must soon be whole. Entreat you for such
• 36:56
  Speaker 4: hearts as break with the promontory ache of bodies whose feet,
• 37:01
  Speaker 4: hands inside must soon be torn, pierced, crucified. Sue for
• 37:10
  Speaker 4: them and all of us who the world over suffer thus,
• 37:16
  Speaker 4: who have scarce time for prayer, indeed, who only march
• 37:21
  Speaker 4: and die and bleed. The town is left. The road
• 37:26
  Speaker 4: leads on, bluely, glaring in the sun, toward where in
• 37:32
  Speaker 4: the Sunrise, gate, Death, Honor and Fierce battle Weight and
• 37:40
  Speaker 4: a poem. This recording is in the public domain. Battle
• 37:50
  Speaker 4: eight Eve of Assault Infantry Going down to Trenches by
• 37:56
  Speaker 4: Robert Nichols read for LibriVox dot Org by Nimis. Eight
• 38:02
  Speaker 4: Eve of Assault Infantry going down to trenches, downward slopes
• 38:09
  Speaker 4: the wild red sun. We lie around a waiting gun.
• 38:14
  Speaker 4: Soon we shall load and fire and load. But hark
• 38:20
  Speaker 4: A sound beats down the road. Hello, what's up? Let's
• 38:25
  Speaker 4: have a look. Come on, ginger, drop that book. What
• 38:30
  Speaker 4: an ell of bloody noise? It's the Yorks in lengths
• 38:35
  Speaker 4: me boys, So we crowd here watch them come. One
• 38:41
  Speaker 4: man drubbing on a drum, a crazy high mouthed organ,
• 38:46
  Speaker 4: blowing tink hans, rattling catcalls, crowing, and above their rhythmic feet,
• 38:54
  Speaker 4: a whirl of shrilling, loud and sweet round moths whistling,
• 38:59
  Speaker 4: and unison shouts. Who's goin to out the un back
• 39:05
  Speaker 4: us up mates, God, we will leave them shells at
• 39:08
  Speaker 4: Kaiser Bill art from Lancashire Mi lad Gill Ye cheer boys,
• 39:14
  Speaker 4: Maken glad ip Rah, give Fritz the chuck, good old
• 39:19
  Speaker 4: bloody Yorke's good luck cheer, I cannot cheer or speak
• 39:26
  Speaker 4: lest my voice, my heart must break and a poem.
• 39:33
  Speaker 4: This recording is in the public domain. Battle nine The
• 39:43
  Speaker 4: Assault by Robert Nicholls read for LibriVox dot org by
• 39:48
  Speaker 4: NEMO nine The Assault. Note one zero is the hour
• 39:57
  Speaker 4: agreed upon by the staff when the infantry tree are
• 40:00
  Speaker 4: to go over the parapet and advance to the assault.
• 40:05
  Speaker 4: Two guns are said to lift when after pounding the
• 40:10
  Speaker 4: front line of the enemy, they lengthen their range and
• 40:14
  Speaker 4: set up a barrier of fire behind his front line
• 40:18
  Speaker 4: to prevent supports moving up. Our infantry then advance. The
• 40:25
  Speaker 4: beating of the guns grows louder, not long, boys, Now
• 40:31
  Speaker 4: my heart burns whiter, fearfuller, prouder. Hurricanes grow as guns
• 40:37
  Speaker 4: redouble their fire. Through the shaken periscope, peeping, I glimpse
• 40:43
  Speaker 4: their wire black earth. Fountains of earth rise, leaping, spouting
• 40:51
  Speaker 4: like shocks of meeting waves. Death's fountains are playing shells
• 40:58
  Speaker 4: like shrieking. Birds rush over crash and din rises higher.
• 41:04
  Speaker 4: A stream of lead raves over us from the left.
• 41:08
  Speaker 4: We safe under cover crash, reverberation, crash, acrid, smoke billowing
• 41:17
  Speaker 4: flash upon flash, black smoke, drifting. The German line vanishes
• 41:24
  Speaker 4: in confusion, smoke cries and cry of our men, ah,
• 41:30
  Speaker 4: your swine, therefore it die in a hurricane of shell
• 41:37
  Speaker 4: one cry We're coming soon. Look out there is opened
• 41:43
  Speaker 4: hell over there, fragments fly, rifles and bits of men
• 41:50
  Speaker 4: whirled at the sky, dust, smoke, thunder, a sudden bout
• 41:56
  Speaker 4: of machine guns, chattering and redoubled sattering, as if in
• 42:02
  Speaker 4: fury at their daring. No good staring. Time soon now
• 42:09
  Speaker 4: home house on a sunny hill, gone like a flickered page.
• 42:16
  Speaker 4: Time soon now zero will engage a sudden thrill fixed baynets, gods,
• 42:26
  Speaker 4: we have our fill of fear, hysteria, exaltation, rage, rage,
• 42:33
  Speaker 4: to kill my heart burns hot, whiter and whiter, contracts
• 42:40
  Speaker 4: tighter and tighter until I stifle with the will long forged,
• 42:46
  Speaker 4: now used, though utterly strained. Oh, pounding heart, baffled, confused, heart,
• 42:54
  Speaker 4: panged head singing, dizzily, pained to do my part, blindness,
• 43:02
  Speaker 4: a moment sick. There the men are Bayonnett's ready click,
• 43:09
  Speaker 4: Time goes quick, A stumbled prayer somehow a blazing star
• 43:16
  Speaker 4: and a blue night where again prayer the tongue trips start.
• 43:24
  Speaker 4: How's time soon? Now? Two minutes or less? The gun's
• 43:29
  Speaker 4: fury mounting higher their utmost. I lift a silent hand unseen.
• 43:37
  Speaker 4: I bless those hearts will follow me, and beautifully now,
• 43:42
  Speaker 4: beautifully my will grips soul, calm and round and filmed
• 43:47
  Speaker 4: and white. A shout men, no such order as retire.
• 43:54
  Speaker 4: I nod the whistles TwixT my lips, I catch a
• 44:00
  Speaker 4: wan worn smile at me, dear men. The pale wristwatch,
• 44:07
  Speaker 4: the quiet hand ticks on amid the din. The guns
• 44:12
  Speaker 4: again rise to a last fury, to a rage, a lust,
• 44:18
  Speaker 4: kill pound kill, pound pound, Now comes the thrust my part,
• 44:26
  Speaker 4: dizziness will but trust these men. The great guns rise,
• 44:35
  Speaker 4: Their fury seems to burst the earth in skies. They lift.
• 44:41
  Speaker 4: Gather heart all thoughts that drift be steel soul, compress
• 44:49
  Speaker 4: thyself into a round, bright hole. I cannot speak time, time.
• 44:58
  Speaker 4: I hear my whistle shriek between teeth, set I fling
• 45:02
  Speaker 4: an arm up, scramble up the grime over the parapet
• 45:08
  Speaker 4: I'm up. Go on, something meets us head down into
• 45:13
  Speaker 4: the storm that greets us. A wail, lights blur, gone
• 45:21
  Speaker 4: on on, lead, lead, hail, spatter, whir whir toward that
• 45:28
  Speaker 4: patch of brown direction, left bullets, a stream, devouring thought,
• 45:35
  Speaker 4: crying in a dream. Men crumpled, going down, go on,
• 45:42
  Speaker 4: go deaftness, numbness, the loudening tornado, bullets, mud, stumbling and skating,
• 45:53
  Speaker 4: My voices strangled, shout, steady pace, boys, the still light,
• 46:01
  Speaker 4: look sir, look out, Haha, bunched figures, waiting, revolver, leveled, quick,
• 46:09
  Speaker 4: flick flick red as blood Germans, Germans, good, oh good, cool, madness,
• 46:20
  Speaker 4: and a poem. This recording is in the public domain.
• 46:29
  Speaker 4: Battle ten the Last Morning by Robert Nichols readflibrivox dot
• 46:35
  Speaker 4: org by Nemo ten the Last Morning, Come now o death.
• 46:43
  Speaker 4: While I am proud, while joy in awe are breath
• 46:48
  Speaker 4: and heart beats loud, while all around me stand men
• 46:53
  Speaker 4: that I love. The wind blares aloud, the grandsun wheels above. Naked,
• 47:00
  Speaker 4: I stand to day before my doom. Welcome what comes
• 47:04
  Speaker 4: my way, whatever come? What is there more to ask
• 47:09
  Speaker 4: than that I have companions, love, a task, and a
• 47:14
  Speaker 4: deep grave. Come, then eternity. If thou my lot having
• 47:21
  Speaker 4: been thus, I cannot be as if I had not naked.
• 47:26
  Speaker 4: I wait my doom, Earth enough shroud death in thy
• 47:31
  Speaker 4: narrow room, man can lie proud and a poem. This
• 47:37
  Speaker 4: recording is in the public domain. Battle eleven Fulfillment by
• 47:47
  Speaker 4: Robert Nichols read for LibriVox dot Org by Nemo eleven fulfillment.
• 47:57
  Speaker 4: Was there love once I have forgotten her? Was there
• 48:01
  Speaker 4: grief once? Grief? Yet is mine? Other loves? I have
• 48:07
  Speaker 4: men rough, but men who stir more grief, more joy
• 48:11
  Speaker 4: than love of thee and thine faces cheerful, full of
• 48:17
  Speaker 4: whimsical mirth, lined by the wind, burned by the sun,
• 48:23
  Speaker 4: bodies enraptured by the abounding earth, as whose children we
• 48:28
  Speaker 4: are brethren one and at any moment may descend hot
• 48:33
  Speaker 4: death to shutter, limbs, pulp, tear, blast, beloved soldiers who
• 48:40
  Speaker 4: love rough life and breath not less for dying, faithful
• 48:45
  Speaker 4: to the last. Oh, the fading eyes, the grimed face, turned, bony,
• 48:53
  Speaker 4: oaked mouth, gushing, fallen head, lessening pressure of a hand,
• 48:58
  Speaker 4: shrunk cl i am and stony, Oh, sudden spasm, release
• 49:04
  Speaker 4: of the dead. Was their loved once I've forgotten her?
• 49:11
  Speaker 4: Was there grief once? Grief? Yet is mine? Oh? Loved living,
• 49:19
  Speaker 4: dying heroic soldier. All all my joy, my grief, my
• 49:27
  Speaker 4: love are thine and a poem. This recording is in
• 49:32
  Speaker 4: the public domain.
• 49:39
  Speaker 2: The Dead One The Burial in Flanders by Robert Nichols
• 49:44
  Speaker 2: Readfourlibrivox dot Org by Ian King The Burial in Flanders
• 49:50
  Speaker 2: hsg Epoh, nineteen sixteen. Through the light Rain, I think
• 49:55
  Speaker 2: I see them going through the light rain, under the
• 49:59
  Speaker 2: muff skies, across the fields. A stealthy, wet wind wanders
• 50:05
  Speaker 2: the mist bedews, their tunics, dizzies, their brains. Shoulder high khaki,
• 50:12
  Speaker 2: shoulder by shoulder, they bear my boy upon his last journey.
• 50:18
  Speaker 2: Night is closing. The wind sighs, ebbs and faulters. They totter,
• 50:24
  Speaker 2: dreaming deem. They see his face even as vikings of old,
• 50:30
  Speaker 2: their slaughtered leader upon their shoulders. So now bear they
• 50:34
  Speaker 2: on all that remains of boy, my friend, their leader,
• 50:39
  Speaker 2: an officer who died for them under the dawn. Oh
• 50:44
  Speaker 2: that I were there, that I might carry, might share
• 50:47
  Speaker 2: that bitter load in grief, in pride I see upon
• 50:52
  Speaker 2: Bron's faces love, submission, and dumb sorrow for that cheerful boy.
• 50:59
  Speaker 2: Now they arrive. The priest repeats the service. The drifting
• 51:04
  Speaker 2: rain obscures, they are dispersed. The dying sun streams out
• 51:10
  Speaker 2: a moment's radiance, the still wet, glistening grave, the trod sward, steaming, sudden,
• 51:19
  Speaker 2: great guns startle, echoing on the silence, thunder, thunder. He
• 51:25
  Speaker 2: has fallen in battle, Oh boy boy, lessening Now the
• 51:31
  Speaker 2: rain patters anew far guns rumble and shudder, and night
• 51:37
  Speaker 2: descends upon the desolate plain, Lawford, September nineteen sixteen. End
• 51:47
  Speaker 2: of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The
• 51:56
  Speaker 2: Dead Too Boy by Robert Nichols Readfolibevost dot Org by
• 52:02
  Speaker 2: Ian King.
• 52:03
  Speaker 1: Boy.
• 52:05
  Speaker 2: In a far field, away from England lies a boy
• 52:09
  Speaker 2: I friended with a care like love all day. The
• 52:13
  Speaker 2: wide earth aches, the cold wind cries, the melancholy clouds
• 52:18
  Speaker 2: drive on above. There, separate from him by little span.
• 52:25
  Speaker 2: Two eagle cousins, generous, reckless, free, two grenfells lie, and
• 52:32
  Speaker 2: my boy is made man one with these elder knights
• 52:37
  Speaker 2: of chivalry. Boy, who expected not this dreadful day, yet
• 52:42
  Speaker 2: leaped a soldier at the sudden call, drank as your
• 52:47
  Speaker 2: father's deeper though than they, the soldier's cup of anguish blood,
• 52:53
  Speaker 2: and gaul not now as friend, But as a soldier,
• 52:59
  Speaker 2: I salute you four for the soldier's name. Our greatest
• 53:03
  Speaker 2: honor is if worthily these wayward hearts assume and bear
• 53:08
  Speaker 2: the same. The soldiers is a name unrecognized. Saving his fellows,
• 53:16
  Speaker 2: deeds are all his flower. He lives, he toils, he suffers,
• 53:22
  Speaker 2: and he dies, and if not all in vain, this
• 53:26
  Speaker 2: is his dower. The soldier is the martyr of a
• 53:30
  Speaker 2: nation expresses, but his subject to its will. His is
• 53:36
  Speaker 2: the pride in noble's resignation, as his the rebel spirit.
• 53:41
  Speaker 2: To fulfill anonymous, he takes his country's name, becomes its
• 53:47
  Speaker 2: blindest facal, though it's lord by force of arms. Its
• 53:52
  Speaker 2: shame is called his shame, as it's the glory gathered
• 53:56
  Speaker 2: by his sword. Lonely he is. He has no friend
• 54:01
  Speaker 2: nor lover, sith in his body. He is dedicate. His
• 54:06
  Speaker 2: comrades only share his life or offer their further deeds
• 54:11
  Speaker 2: to one more heart oblate living. He's made an argument
• 54:17
  Speaker 2: beyond for others peace. But when hot wars have birth,
• 54:23
  Speaker 2: for all his brother's safety becomes bond to fate or
• 54:27
  Speaker 2: whatsoever sways this earth. Dying his mangled body to inter it.
• 54:36
  Speaker 2: He doth bequeath him into comrade hands his soul. He
• 54:40
  Speaker 2: renders to some captain's spirit that knows, admires, pities, and
• 54:46
  Speaker 2: understands all this. You knew by that which doth reside
• 54:51
  Speaker 2: deeper than learning, by apprehension of ancient dark and melancholy pride.
• 54:58
  Speaker 2: He what a soldier true, and died as one all day.
• 55:04
  Speaker 2: The cold wind cries, the clouds unroll. But to the
• 55:08
  Speaker 2: cloud and wind, I cry, be still? What need of
• 55:13
  Speaker 2: comfort has the heroic soul? What soldier finds? A soldier's
• 55:19
  Speaker 2: grave is chill Lawford, September nineteen sixteen. End of poem.
• 55:29
  Speaker 2: This recording is in public domain.
• 55:37
  Speaker 5: The Dead three plaint of Friendship by Death Broken by
• 55:42
  Speaker 5: Robert Nicholls read for LibriVox dot Org by Eva Davis.
• 55:46
  Speaker 5: Plaint of Friendship by Death broken, r. P. Lose, nineteen fifteen. God,
• 55:54
  Speaker 5: if thou livest thine eye on me, bend and steer
• 55:59
  Speaker 5: my grief, and bring my pain to end. Pain for
• 56:02
  Speaker 5: my last the deepest rarest friend man ever had, whence
• 56:07
  Speaker 5: groweth this despair. I had a friend, but oh he
• 56:12
  Speaker 5: is now dead. I had a vision for which he
• 56:15
  Speaker 5: has bled. I had happiness, but it is fled. God
• 56:20
  Speaker 5: help me now, for I must needs despair. His eyes
• 56:24
  Speaker 5: were dark and sad, yet never sad. In them moved
• 56:28
  Speaker 5: somber figures, stable clad. They were the deepest eyes man
• 56:33
  Speaker 5: ever had. They were my solemn joy, now my despair
• 56:38
  Speaker 5: in my perpetual night. They on me, look reading me slowly,
• 56:43
  Speaker 5: and I cannot brook their silent beauty, for nor crack
• 56:47
  Speaker 5: nor nook can cover me, but they shall find me there.
• 56:52
  Speaker 5: His face was straight, his mouth was wide yet trim.
• 56:56
  Speaker 5: His hair was tangled black, and through its dim softness,
• 57:00
  Speaker 5: his perplexed hand would writhe and swim. Hands that were
• 57:04
  Speaker 5: small on arm's strong, knit yet spare. He stood no
• 57:09
  Speaker 5: taller than our common span swam, but nor farther leaped,
• 57:13
  Speaker 5: nor faster ran. I know him spirit now, who seemed
• 57:17
  Speaker 5: a man. God help me now, for I must needs despair.
• 57:22
  Speaker 5: His voice was low and clear, yet it could rise
• 57:26
  Speaker 5: and beat an indignation at the skies. Then no man
• 57:30
  Speaker 5: dared to meet his fire filled eyes, and even I,
• 57:34
  Speaker 5: his own friend, did not dare. With humorous wistfulness he
• 57:39
  Speaker 5: spoke to us, Yet there was something more mysterious beyond
• 57:43
  Speaker 5: his words or silence. Glorious I know not what, but
• 57:48
  Speaker 5: we could feel it there. I mind now how we
• 57:52
  Speaker 5: sat one winter night, while past his open window raced
• 57:56
  Speaker 5: the bright snow, torrent golden in the hot fire light.
• 58:00
  Speaker 5: I see him smiling at the streamered air. I watched
• 58:05
  Speaker 5: him to the open window, go and lean long, smiling,
• 58:08
  Speaker 5: whispering to the snow, play with his hands amid the
• 58:12
  Speaker 5: fiery flow, and when he turned it flamed amid his hair.
• 58:18
  Speaker 5: Without arose a sudden bell's huge clang, until a thousand
• 58:23
  Speaker 5: bells in answer rang, and midnight Oxford hummed and reeled
• 58:27
  Speaker 5: and sang under the whitening fury of the air, his
• 58:32
  Speaker 5: figure standing in the fiery room behind him, the snow
• 58:36
  Speaker 5: seething through the gloom, the great bells shaking, thundering out
• 58:41
  Speaker 5: their doom. Soft fiery snow and night his being were.
• 58:47
  Speaker 5: Yet he could be simply glad and take his choice,
• 58:51
  Speaker 5: walking spring woods, mimicking each bird voice. When he was glad,
• 58:56
  Speaker 5: we learned how to rejoice. If the birds sing tis
• 59:00
  Speaker 5: to my spite, they dare. All women loved him, yet
• 59:05
  Speaker 5: his mother won his tenderness alone, For moon and sun
• 59:09
  Speaker 5: and rain were for him. Sister brother loved one and
• 59:13
  Speaker 5: in their life he took an equal share strength he
• 59:17
  Speaker 5: had too, strength of unrested will, buttressed his natural charity,
• 59:22
  Speaker 5: and ill fared it with him who sought his good
• 59:25
  Speaker 5: to kill. He was its prince and champion anywhere. Yet
• 59:30
  Speaker 5: he had weakness, for he burned too fast, and his
• 59:34
  Speaker 5: unrect of body. At the last he in impatience on
• 59:38
  Speaker 5: the bayonet's cast body, whose spirit had outsoared them.
• 59:42
  Speaker 4: There.
• 59:44
  Speaker 5: I had a friend, but oh, he is now dead.
• 59:48
  Speaker 5: Fate would not let me follow where he led in him.
• 59:52
  Speaker 5: I had happiness, but he is dead. God help me now,
• 59:56
  Speaker 5: for I must needs despair. God, if thou livest, and
• 1:00:01
  Speaker 5: indeed didst send thine only son to be to all
• 1:00:05
  Speaker 5: a friend, bid his dark pitying eyes upon me, bend
• 1:00:10
  Speaker 5: and his hand heel, or I must needs despair. In hospital,
• 1:00:17
  Speaker 5: Autumn nineteen fifteen. End of poem. This recording is in
• 1:00:23
  Speaker 5: the public domain.
• 1:00:30
  Speaker 4: The Dead for by the Wood by Robert Nichols read
• 1:00:35
  Speaker 4: for LibriVox dot Org by Nemo four. By the wood,
• 1:00:42
  Speaker 4: How still the day is in the air, How bright
• 1:00:46
  Speaker 4: a thrush sings and is silent in the wood. The
• 1:00:50
  Speaker 4: hillside sleeps dizzy with heat and light. A rhythmic murmur
• 1:00:55
  Speaker 4: fills the quietude. Woodpecker prolongs his leisured fly ight, rising
• 1:01:01
  Speaker 4: and falling on the solitude. But there are those who,
• 1:01:06
  Speaker 4: far from Yon, would lie buried within the trench where
• 1:01:10
  Speaker 4: all were found. A weight of mold oppresses every eye
• 1:01:15
  Speaker 4: within that cabin close. Their limbs are bound, and there
• 1:01:20
  Speaker 4: they rot amid the long, profound, disastrous silence of gray
• 1:01:25
  Speaker 4: earth and sky. These once too rested, where now rests.
• 1:01:31
  Speaker 4: But one whose scarce can lift is panged and heavy head,
• 1:01:36
  Speaker 4: who drinks in grief the hot light of the sun,
• 1:01:40
  Speaker 4: whose eyes watched dully the green branches spread, who feels
• 1:01:45
  Speaker 4: his currents ever slowlier run, whose lips repeat a silent dead,
• 1:01:52
  Speaker 4: All dead, O youths to come shall drink eir warm
• 1:01:57
  Speaker 4: and bright. Shall hear the bird cry in the sunny wood?
• 1:02:02
  Speaker 4: All my young England fell today in fight. That bird,
• 1:02:07
  Speaker 4: that wood was ransomed by our blood. I pray you,
• 1:02:12
  Speaker 4: when the drum rolls, let your mood be worthy of
• 1:02:16
  Speaker 4: our deaths and your delight. Nineteen sixteen and a poem.
• 1:02:24
  Speaker 4: This recording is in the public domain. The Aftermath One
• 1:02:34
  Speaker 4: at the EBB by Robert Nichols read for LibriVox dot
• 1:02:39
  Speaker 4: org by Nima one at the ebb, alone upon the
• 1:02:46
  Speaker 4: monotonous ocean's verge. I take my stand in view with
• 1:02:52
  Speaker 4: heavy eye. The gray wave rise. I hear its sullen surge,
• 1:02:58
  Speaker 4: its bubbling rush, and sudden downward sigh. My friends are dead.
• 1:03:06
  Speaker 4: There fades for me. The light of her warm face
• 1:03:09
  Speaker 4: I loved upon me. Stare in the dull noon or
• 1:03:14
  Speaker 4: deadest hour of night, the smiling lips and chill eyes
• 1:03:19
  Speaker 4: of despair. A light wind blows. I hear the low
• 1:03:25
  Speaker 4: waves steal in and collapse like a despondent breath. My
• 1:03:30
  Speaker 4: life has ebbed. I neither see nor feel. I am
• 1:03:35
  Speaker 4: suspended between life and death. Again, the wave caves in. Oh,
• 1:03:42
  Speaker 4: I am worn smoother than any pebble on the beach,
• 1:03:47
  Speaker 4: and would dissolve to that whence I was born or
• 1:03:51
  Speaker 4: alway bide beyond the long wave's reach. O will thou
• 1:03:57
  Speaker 4: only strengthener of man's heart when all is gone love
• 1:04:02
  Speaker 4: and the love of friends, when even Earth's comfort has
• 1:04:06
  Speaker 4: become a part of that futility, nor breaks nor amends
• 1:04:13
  Speaker 4: strengthen me now against these utmost wrongs. Stay my wrecked
• 1:04:18
  Speaker 4: spirit within thy control, that men may find some fury
• 1:04:24
  Speaker 4: in my songs, which like strong wine shall fortify the soul.
• 1:04:30
  Speaker 4: Beneath gold Cap June nineteen sixteen, and a poem. This
• 1:04:38
  Speaker 4: recording is in the public domain. The Aftermath two Alone
• 1:04:49
  Speaker 4: by Robert Nichols read for LibriVox dot org by Nemo
• 1:04:55
  Speaker 4: two alone. The gray Wind in the gray Sea, tossing
• 1:05:03
  Speaker 4: under the long gray sky. My heart is lonelier than
• 1:05:08
  Speaker 4: the wind. My heart is emptier than the sky, and
• 1:05:14
  Speaker 4: beats more heavily than the cold surge beneath the gull
• 1:05:18
  Speaker 4: wheeling with his reiterant cry of loneliness. All all is
• 1:05:25
  Speaker 4: lone alone, and so am I. And a poem. This
• 1:05:33
  Speaker 4: recording is in the public domain. The Aftermath three Thanksgiving
• 1:05:45
  Speaker 4: by Robert Nichols read for LibriVox dot org by Nemo.
• 1:05:51
  Speaker 4: Three Thanksgiving. Amazement fills my heart tonight, amaze and awful fear.
• 1:06:01
  Speaker 4: I am a ship that sees no light, but blindly onward, steers,
• 1:06:07
  Speaker 4: flung toward Heaven's toppling rage, sunk between steep and steep,
• 1:06:14
  Speaker 4: A lost and wondrous fight I wage with the embattled deep.
• 1:06:20
  Speaker 4: I neither know nor care at length where drives the
• 1:06:24
  Speaker 4: storm about? Only I summon all my strength and swear
• 1:06:29
  Speaker 4: to ride it out. Yet give I thanks. Despite these wars,
• 1:06:36
  Speaker 4: my ship, though blindly blown, long lost to sun nor
• 1:06:41
  Speaker 4: moon nor stars, still stands up alone. I need no
• 1:06:46
  Speaker 4: trust embarrow'd spars. My strength is yet my own and
• 1:06:53
  Speaker 4: a poem. This recording is in the public domain. The
• 1:07:02
  Speaker 4: Aftermath four Annihilated by Robert Nichols read for LibriVox dot
• 1:07:09
  Speaker 4: org by NEMA. Four Annihilated Upon the sweltering seas, enormous
• 1:07:18
  Speaker 4: round a smoke, a dazzle, brown and brown and gold.
• 1:07:24
  Speaker 4: A hushed light falls, thing clouds without a sound, dark
• 1:07:29
  Speaker 4: in the sea. Within their curtains fold the somber clouds
• 1:07:35
  Speaker 4: through which the six sun climbs smoke slowly. On below,
• 1:07:41
  Speaker 4: there is no breath. The long black beach turns livid,
• 1:07:46
  Speaker 4: the sea chimes. I taste the fullness of my spirit's death.
• 1:07:54
  Speaker 4: And a poem. This recording is in the public domain.
• 1:08:03
  Speaker 4: The Aftermath five Shot of Night by Robert Nichols, read
• 1:08:08
  Speaker 4: for LibriVox dot org by NEMO. Five shot of Night.
• 1:08:16
  Speaker 4: The sea darkens, waves roar and rush, the wind rises,
• 1:08:21
  Speaker 4: the last bird's haste one star over Eve's bitter flush
• 1:08:27
  Speaker 4: spills on the spouting waste, loud and louder, the darkened sea,
• 1:08:33
  Speaker 4: the wind shrills on a monotone sky and deep wrecked.
• 1:08:38
  Speaker 4: Confusedly travail and cry as one long. I look on
• 1:08:44
  Speaker 4: the deepening sky, the chill star, the forlorn sea, breaking
• 1:08:50
  Speaker 4: for what does my spirit cry for? What is my
• 1:08:54
  Speaker 4: heart so aching? Is it home but I have no home?
• 1:08:59
  Speaker 4: Is tears but I no more weep? Is it love?
• 1:09:05
  Speaker 4: Love went by dumb? Is it sleep? But I would
• 1:09:10
  Speaker 4: not sleep? Must I fare? Then? In fear and fever
• 1:09:16
  Speaker 4: on a journey, become thrice far, whose sun has gone
• 1:09:20
  Speaker 4: down forever, whose night brings no guiding star. The wind roars,
• 1:09:27
  Speaker 4: and an ashen beam waving up, shrinks away in haste.
• 1:09:32
  Speaker 4: The waves crash, the star's trickling gleam travels the warring waste.
• 1:09:38
  Speaker 4: I look up in the windy height, the lone orb,
• 1:09:42
  Speaker 4: serene in afar, shakes with excess of her light. Beauty
• 1:09:49
  Speaker 4: be thou, my star, and a poem. This recording is
• 1:09:54
  Speaker 4: in the public domain. The Aftermath six The Full Heart
• 1:10:05
  Speaker 4: by Robert Nichols read for LibriVox dot Org by Nemo
• 1:10:11
  Speaker 4: six The Full Heart Alone on the shore in the
• 1:10:17
  Speaker 4: paws of the night time. I stand, and I hear
• 1:10:21
  Speaker 4: the long wind blow light. I view the constellations quietly,
• 1:10:26
  Speaker 4: quietly burning. I hear the wave fall in the hush
• 1:10:31
  Speaker 4: of the night. Long after I am dead, ended this
• 1:10:36
  Speaker 4: bitter journey, many another whose heart holds no light, Shall
• 1:10:43
  Speaker 4: your solemn sweetness hush on comfort O my companions. Wind waters,
• 1:10:51
  Speaker 4: stars and night near gold Cap nineteen sixteen, and a poem.
• 1:10:59
  Speaker 4: This recording is in the public domain. The Aftermath seven
• 1:11:09
  Speaker 4: Sonnet Our Dead by Robert Nichols, read for LibriVox dot
• 1:11:14
  Speaker 4: org by Nemo seven sonnet Our Dead. They have not
• 1:11:22
  Speaker 4: gone from us, Oh no, They are the inmost essence
• 1:11:27
  Speaker 4: of each thing that is perfect for us. They flame
• 1:11:30
  Speaker 4: in every star, The trees are emerald with their presences.
• 1:11:35
  Speaker 4: They are not gone from us. They do not roam
• 1:11:39
  Speaker 4: the flaw and turmoil of the lower deep, but have
• 1:11:42
  Speaker 4: now made the whole wide world their home, and in
• 1:11:45
  Speaker 4: its loveliness themselves they steep. They fail not ever. Theirs
• 1:11:51
  Speaker 4: is the diurn splendor of sunny hill and forest grave.
• 1:11:56
  Speaker 4: In every rainbow's glittering drop, they burn, They dazzle, and
• 1:11:59
  Speaker 4: the mass cloud's architrave. They chant on every wind, and
• 1:12:03
  Speaker 4: they return in the long roll of any deep blue
• 1:12:07
  Speaker 4: wave and a poem. This recording is in the public domain.
• 1:12:18
  Speaker 4: The Aftermath eight Deliverance by Robert Nichols read for LibriVox
• 1:12:24
  Speaker 4: dot org by Nima eight deliverance. Out of the Night,
• 1:12:32
  Speaker 4: out of the night, I come free at last. The
• 1:12:35
  Speaker 4: whole world is my home. I have lost self. I
• 1:12:39
  Speaker 4: look not on myself again. But if I do, I
• 1:12:43
  Speaker 4: see a man among men out of the night, out
• 1:12:47
  Speaker 4: of the night. O flesh soul, I know not from
• 1:12:50
  Speaker 4: body within thy mesh. Accepting all that is, I cannot
• 1:12:55
  Speaker 4: divide the same. I accept the smoke because I accept
• 1:12:59
  Speaker 4: the flame out of the night, Out of the night.
• 1:13:03
  Speaker 4: O friends, Oh, all my dead, think ye are Friendship
• 1:13:07
  Speaker 4: ends Harold Kenneth Dick, many hearts that were true. While
• 1:13:13
  Speaker 4: I breathe breath, I am breathing you out of the night,
• 1:13:18
  Speaker 4: out of the night. O power Many a fight to
• 1:13:21
  Speaker 4: be won, Many an awful hour, Many an hour to
• 1:13:25
  Speaker 4: wish death. Ere I go to death. Many an hour
• 1:13:29
  Speaker 4: to bless breath. Ere I cease from breath out of
• 1:13:34
  Speaker 4: the night, Out of the night, O soul, give thanks
• 1:13:37
  Speaker 4: to the night. Night and day are the whole. I
• 1:13:41
  Speaker 4: count mere life, breath, nothing. Now I know life's worth
• 1:13:45
  Speaker 4: lies all in spending that known love, life and earth,
• 1:13:51
  Speaker 4: and a poem. This recording is in the public domain.
• 1:13:57
  Speaker 4: End of Arjurs and Endurances by Robert Nichols