Ivor Gurney - Strange service
Channel: PoetryProse Project
Date: 2015-03-25

Written in the trenches of World War One.

Little did I dream, England, that you bore me 

Under the Cotswold hills beside the water mea
dows, 

To do you dreadful service, here, beyond your 
borders 

And your enfolding seas. 

I was a dreamer ever, and bound to your dear 

service, 
Meditating deep, I thought on your secret beauty, 
As through a child's face one may see the clear 

spirit 
Miraculously shining. 

Your hills not only hills, but friends of mine and 

kindly, 
Your tiny knolls and orchards hidden beside the 

river 
Muddy and strongly-flowing, with shy and tiny 
streamlets 
Safe in its bosom. 

Now these are memories only, and your skies and 

rushy sky-pools 
Fragile mirrors easily broken by moving airs. . . . 

In my deep heart for ever goes on your daily 

being, 
And uses consecrate. 

Think on me too, O Mother, who wrest my soul 
to serve you 

In strange and fearful ways beyond your en- 
circling waters ; 

None but you can know my heart, its tears and 
sacrifice ; 

None, but you, repay.