Cyril Morton Horne
(Written from the Trenches)
Tomorrow before the Day-Dawn we’ll be out on the foe-man’s track,
Facing those grim, gray field-guns, and I fancy – we won’t come back;
Tomorrow: So near its coming – I cannot stave it away,
And all the tomorrows will soon be a passionless yesterday.
It isn’t the thought of the Maxims, or the red-rimmed steel I fear,
But the knowledge that you have forgotten the passion of yesteryear.
Idle of me to blame you; yet, had you one regret,
It were easy to face tomorrow, easier to forget.
You, with your passionate kisses; you with your red, ripe lips;
You, with your soft brown eyes that the stars could never eclipse.
Idle of me to blame you! Passion and Pleasure dies;
The Loves of our youth are foolish, the thoughts of our age are wise.
Springtime fades, and the violets last but a little while,
Yet who can remember the violets when the rich, red roses smile?
Summer is welded into an Autumn of brief regret,
So it wouldn’t be human nature for a woman – not to forget.
The twilight hurts me a little; only a Winter since
It wafted us into Fairy-land, and I was the Fairy Prince;
You swore me a staunch allegiance, so gave you my heart for Throne,
And even the Sprites and the Wood-nymphs discreetly left us alone!
But now reality’s bitter; instead of the Twilight spells
I hear the whistle of dum-dums – the breaking of shrapnel shells;
The voices of rough-chinned comrades come back of the trench to me,
And the bullet that found my brother has broken my reverie.
I shall think of you as I loved you; I shall never strive to guess
Whose are the arms you rest in, whose are the lips you press.
Maybe some word may recall me – break in on your laughter gay –
And the Someone-You-Love will question who beckons your thoughts away;
And you shall smile as you answer – “My wonderful Fairy Prince,
It was a waltz that reminded me of Someone I loved – long since!”
Springtime dies, and the roses fade, the pale stars wane and set,
So it wouldn’t be human nature for a woman – not to forget.
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Analysis (AI Assisted)
This poem, written from the trenches, explores a soldier’s emotional turmoil as he faces the grim reality of war while reflecting on love, memory, and inevitable loss. The speaker’s voice is poignant and bittersweet, filled with both longing for the past and resignation to the cruel present. The underlying tension between youthful passion and the harshness of war gives the poem its emotional depth.
The opening lines set the tone for the poem, as the soldier anticipates the imminent dangers of battle: “Tomorrow before the Day-Dawn we’ll be out on the foe-man’s track.” There’s a sense of inevitability in the way he speaks—tomorrow is coming, and with it, the likelihood of death. The phrase “we won’t come back” hints at a grim acceptance of this reality. His fear, however, is not of the enemy or the weapons (“Maxims” or “red-rimmed steel”), but of something more personal and devastating—the fear that the woman he loves has already forgotten him. This fear of being forgotten, of his love becoming insignificant, is a recurring theme throughout the poem.
As the speaker reflects on the past, he evokes the passionate memories of his love—“your red, ripe lips” and “soft brown eyes that the stars could never eclipse.” These images are full of youthful vitality, a stark contrast to the grim present. Yet, as the speaker admits, it is “idle of me to blame you,” acknowledging the inevitability of change. The passage of time and the fading of youthful passions are presented as natural processes, inevitable even in the face of love. The speaker accepts that “the Loves of our youth are foolish, the thoughts of our age are wise.” This line carries a sense of resignation—youthful love is fleeting, and so are the memories of it. Like flowers, the passions of the past fade away, replaced by the reality of adult life.
The metaphor of changing seasons is central to this idea of fading love. Spring, with its fleeting violets, gives way to summer and autumn, just as youthful love gives way to the wisdom of age and the fading of passion. The line “So it wouldn’t be human nature for a woman – not to forget” reflects the speaker’s understanding that, for his lover, time has passed and life has moved on. He’s resigned to the fact that she will likely forget him, just as the seasons change, and that it’s simply part of being human.
The poem then takes a poignant turn as the speaker contrasts his memories of love with the brutal present reality of war. He remembers a time when they were “in Fairy-land” and he was her “Fairy Prince,” evoking a dreamlike, innocent world where love was pure and magical. However, the speaker’s reverie is shattered by the harsh sounds of war: “the whistle of dum-dums – the breaking of shrapnel shells.” The juxtaposition of these violent sounds against his earlier romantic memories highlights the dissonance between the idealized past and the brutal present. This shift from fantasy to reality is underscored by the tragic note of his brother’s death, which cuts into the speaker’s moment of reflection.
The poem ends with the soldier’s bittersweet acceptance of being forgotten. The lines, “I shall think of you as I loved you; I shall never strive to guess / Whose are the arms you rest in, whose are the lips you press,” capture his resigned love. He acknowledges that his beloved has likely moved on, but he will always remember her as she was when he loved her. The final lines evoke a painful yet dignified sense of distance. His lover may smile and speak fondly of him, but it will be in a distant, nostalgic way. The phrase “Someone I loved – long since!” indicates how far the past has receded, reinforcing the soldier’s realization that life—and love—goes on, regardless of the scars he bears.
In the end, the poem captures the tension between the impermanence of life and love and the soldier’s deep emotional attachment to a past that is slipping away. The speaker’s resignation to the natural course of time—where love fades, memories dim, and youth is lost—is paired with the tragic awareness that his death in war will only hasten this process. He is, in a sense, caught between two worlds: the youthful love he once knew and the inevitable fate that awaits him on the battlefield. The poem poignantly conveys the deep loneliness and emotional pain of a soldier facing death while grappling with the idea of being forgotten by those he loves.
As a war poem, it focuses less on the external violence of battle and more on the internal conflict of the soldier—his fear of being forgotten, the emotional cost of war, and the heartbreak of love lost to time and tragedy. It’s a meditation on the fleeting nature of both youth and love, underscored by the grim inevitability of death in war.