The Soldier Addresses His Body
Edgell Rickword
I shall be mad if you get
smashed about,
We’ve had good times
together, you and I;
Although you groused a bit
when luck was out,
And women passionless,
and we went dry.
we have not done;
Countries not seen, where
people do strange things;
Eat fish alive, and mimic in
the sun
The solemn gestures of
their stone-grey kings.
I’ve heard of forests that are
dim at noon
Where snakes and creepers
wrestle all day long;
pale with the full moon,
Gibber and cry, and wail a
mad old song;
Because at the full moon
the Hippogriff,
With crinkled ivory snout
and agate feet,
With his green eyes will
glare them cold and stiff
For the coward Wyvern to
come down and eat.
mountain wines
We have not drunk, nor
snatched at bursting
grapes
To pelt slim girls along
Sicilian vines
Who’d flicker through the
leaves, faint frolic shapes.
we have not done,
But it’s a sweat to knock
them into rhyme,
Let’s have a drink, and give
the cards a run
And leave dull verse to the
dull peaceful time.
—1921