John William Streets
Like memories born in a dream my Fancy around thee plays,
Re-embodies the life, the beauty of olden days
That were thine ere the scourge of war-aflame in the sweet blue sky-
Wither’d thy full expanding life -leaving thy spring to die.
Those were the days when the violets bloom’d blue at thy brambly feet,
Beauty’s own flower, shedding upon the winds perfumes sweet ;
When the bee went hunting down the trail of the celandine,
And the primrose starr’d the May with loveliness divine.
When the sunbeams played in thy leaves and
the wild brook fled to a tune ;
When the wild rose trailed its beauty thro ‘ the noons of June ;
When the silver-throated thrush sang on the dewy thorn ,
And the lark sprang mad with love beyond the top of morn .
The wild birds hid their nests within thy secret bowers,
And sweet-faced children joyously gather’d thy pageant of flowers ;
In the soft deep twilights of summer when the stars stole out in the night,
The moths on silken wings stole down thy ways in flight.
Now like a woman who keeps but the ghost of a wasted life ,
Alluring, breeding pity, thy vestige fronts the strife :
With bullets and bursting shells, thy trees all splinter’d and torn
Thou remainest a ghost of thyself-a glory alas ! now forlorn .
Behind thy broken line, brown faces their vigil keep,
Peering into the night, and into Death’s shadows deep ;
Fronting the great unknown as thou frontest the twilight now,
Bold, enduring, grand, with flowers on thy scorch’d brow.
For thy sap still stirs in thy veins and defiant of death will rise
And weave thro ‘ the years’ wild beauty ‘ neath soft summer skies-
And the men who peer thro ‘ thy leaves facing the battle’s hot breath
Like thee will project their life beyond the phase of Death.
MAY, 1916 .
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Analysis (AI Assisted)
This poem, rich in its imagery and tone, offers a stark and poignant reflection on the effects of war, focusing on the transformation of nature and human life as it faces destruction. The speaker begins by evoking a sense of nostalgia and beauty, conjuring an idyllic past before war, where the world was vibrant and full of life. The images of violets, primroses, wild roses, and thrushes bring the reader into a world teeming with natural beauty, where youth and vitality flow freely.
However, the poem quickly takes a sharp turn with the arrival of war. The speaker compares the current state of nature to that of a “woman who keeps but the ghost of a wasted life,” presenting the aftermath of destruction as something that no longer embodies the fullness of its former beauty. The trees, once flourishing with life, are now “splinter’d and torn” by bullets and shells. This imagery of a decayed world mirrors the ravaged lives of those caught in the violence of war. The natural world, once a symbol of vitality, now stands as a shadow of its former self—its beauty tragically “forlorn.”
Yet even in the face of this devastation, the poem introduces a note of resilience. The “brown faces” of soldiers, watching over the land amidst the ruins, embody this same defiance of death. The comparison between the enduring sap in the trees and the determination of the soldiers suggests that, despite the physical destruction, there remains an inner strength and a hope for renewal. Just as the trees, despite their wounds, will continue to rise and grow again, so too will these soldiers continue to project their lives beyond death’s reach. The final lines evoke a sense of continuity, suggesting that though war may tear the world apart, the spirit of life and beauty will not be erased.
In sum, the poem captures the tragic beauty of war’s aftermath, where life and nature are irreparably scarred, yet the resilience to overcome and transcend remains. The imagery moves from a vibrant, peaceful past to a grim present, but the underlying message is one of enduring hope: life, in its many forms, persists even in the face of destruction.