Ivor Gurney was unusual as a WW1 poet in that he was a private soldier unlike Graves, Brooke, Sassoon, Owen et al, mainly officers from the patrician class. He was also an accomplished composer.
Afterwards
Those dreadful evidences of Man's ill-doingThe kindly Mother of all shall soon hide deep,
Covering with tender fingers her children asleep,
Till Time's slow cycle turns them to renewing
In other forms their beauty - No grief, no rueing
Irrevocable woe. They'll lie, they'll steep
Their hearts in peace unfathomed, till they leap
Quick to the light of the sun, as flowers strewing,
Maybe, their own friends' paths. And that's not all.
When men who knew them walk old ways alone,
The paths they loved together, at even-fall,
Then the sad heart shall know a presence near,
Friendly, familiar, and the old grief gone,
The new keen joy shall make all darkness clear.
I've never heard of this poet. Thank you so much for this introduction. Yes, it's good to hear from private soldiers.
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