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Henry Masterman Mist Diaries and Prisoners Pie Magazine

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Revision as of Nov 20, 2022, 10:54:01 PM
edited by 172.20.1.1
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Aldania.
+
=Aldania.=
 +
Shall I attempt the Italian skies
  
Shall I attempt the Italian skies to paint a deeper blue?  
+
To paint a deeper blue?
And deck the fields of Arcady In more resplendent hue?
+
Or teach the nightingale to sing more rapturous a refrain?
+
And tune the angels' harps in heaven to some more ravishing strain?
+
Shall I still prettier modesty the dainty violet loan?
+
Enrich the balms of Araby To charms beyond their own?
+
Or to the Sun a candle hold, To show its peerless light?
+
Encrust the stars with diamonds, That they appear more bright?
+
Oh! vainest of all vanities,
+
Such idle thoughts to raise!
+
Yet vainer still it is for me To sing my Lady's praise.
+
  
C.
+
And deck the fields of Arcady
  
Autumn Leaves.
+
In more resplendent hue?
  
Like waiting brides in their wedding robes,
 
The leaves are whispering to each other wonderingly.
 
When the next sun dawns
 
They are gone.
 
And with quick rustling steps
 
And ceaseless whisperings,
 
They hurry onwards after the flying wind.
 
They wander along the rainy roads
 
And the heavy wheels pass over them.
 
  
J.A.W.
+
Or teach the nightingale to sing
  
O Touch us Not.
+
More rapturous a refrain?
  
O touch us not, Eternal Magdalen!
+
And tune the angels' harps in heaven
The whole world fades away when your pale face
+
Yearns out to us, the Saviours of Men.
+
  
Yea, all our luminous dreams are faded then,
+
To some more ravishing strain?
And we hold shadows strained in our embrace.
+
O touch us not, Eternal Magdalen!
+
  
No more we preach on Mountains, or have ken
 
Of aught to speak of. Yea, we are grown base,
 
We, who would fain be Saviours of Men.
 
  
Hold back your hands, and come not near us when
+
Shall I still prettier modesty
We agonise in this dim Garden Place.
+
O touch us not, Eternal Magdalen,
+
For we would be the Saviours of Men.
+
  
L.H.
+
The dainty violet loan?
  
 +
Enrich the balms of Araby
  
BC Archives, MS-2570 Box 1 File 6 / MIST, Henry Masterman / Ruhleben magazine, Prisoners’ Pie, 1916.
+
To charms beyond their own?
 +
 
 +
 
 +
Or to the sun a candle hold,
 +
 
 +
To show its peerless light?
 +
 
 +
Encrust the stars with diamonds,
 +
 
 +
That they appear more bright?
 +
 
 +
 
 +
Oh! vainest of all vanities,
 +
 
 +
Such idle thoughts to raise!
 +
 
 +
Yet vainer still it is for me
 +
 
 +
To sing my Lady's praise.    C.
 +
 
 +
 
 +
=Autumn Leaves.=
 +
Like waiting bridges in their wedding robes,
 +
 
 +
The leaves are whispering to each other wonderingly.
 +
 
 +
When the next sun dawns
 +
 
 +
They are gone.
 +
 
 +
And with quick rustling steps
 +
 
 +
And ceaseless whisperings,
 +
 
 +
They hurry onwards after the flying wind.
 +
 
 +
They wander along the rainy roads
 +
 
 +
.........And the heavy wheels
 +
 
 +
pass over them.    J.A.W.
 +
 
 +
 
 +
=O Touch us Not.=
 +
O touch us not, Eternal Magdalen!
 +
 
 +
The whole world fades away when your pale face
 +
 
 +
Yearns out to us, the Saviours of Men.
 +
 
 +
 
 +
Yea, all our luminous dreams are faded then,
 +
 
 +
And we hold shadows strained in our embrace.
 +
 
 +
O touch us not, Eternal Magdalen!
 +
 
 +
 
 +
No more we preach on Mountains, or have ken
 +
 
 +
Of aught to speak of. Yea, we are grown base,
 +
 
 +
We, who would fain be Saviours of Men.
 +
 
 +
 
 +
Hold back your hands, and come not near us when
 +
 
 +
We agonise in this dim Garden Place.
 +
 
 +
O touch us not, Eternal Magdalen,
 +
 
 +
For we would be the Saviours of Men.    I.H.
 +
 
 +
 
 +
BC Archives, MS-2570 Box 1 File 6 / MIST, Henry Masterman, Ruhleben magazine, Prisoners' Pie, 1916)

Revision as of Nov 20, 2022, 10:54:01 PM

Aldania.

Shall I attempt the Italian skies

To paint a deeper blue?

And deck the fields of Arcady

In more resplendent hue?


Or teach the nightingale to sing

More rapturous a refrain?

And tune the angels' harps in heaven

To some more ravishing strain?


Shall I still prettier modesty

The dainty violet loan?

Enrich the balms of Araby

To charms beyond their own?


Or to the sun a candle hold,

To show its peerless light?

Encrust the stars with diamonds,

That they appear more bright?


Oh! vainest of all vanities,

Such idle thoughts to raise!

Yet vainer still it is for me

To sing my Lady's praise. C.


Autumn Leaves.

Like waiting bridges in their wedding robes,

The leaves are whispering to each other wonderingly.

When the next sun dawns

They are gone.

And with quick rustling steps

And ceaseless whisperings,

They hurry onwards after the flying wind.

They wander along the rainy roads

.........And the heavy wheels

pass over them. J.A.W.


O Touch us Not.

O touch us not, Eternal Magdalen!

The whole world fades away when your pale face

Yearns out to us, the Saviours of Men.


Yea, all our luminous dreams are faded then,

And we hold shadows strained in our embrace.

O touch us not, Eternal Magdalen!


No more we preach on Mountains, or have ken

Of aught to speak of. Yea, we are grown base,

We, who would fain be Saviours of Men.


Hold back your hands, and come not near us when

We agonise in this dim Garden Place.

O touch us not, Eternal Magdalen,

For we would be the Saviours of Men. I.H.


BC Archives, MS-2570 Box 1 File 6 / MIST, Henry Masterman, Ruhleben magazine, Prisoners' Pie, 1916)