May Wedderburn Cannan
We planned to shake the world together, you and I
Being young, and very wise;
Now in the light of the green shaded lamp
Almost I see your eyes
Light with the old gay laughter; you and I
Dreamed greatly of an Empire in those days,
Setting our feet upon laborious ways,
And all you asked of fame
Was crossed swords in the Army List,
My Dear, against your name.
We planned a great Empire together, you and I,
Bound only by the sea;
Now in the quiet of a chill Winter’s night
Your voice comes hushed to me
Full of forgotten memories: you and I
Dreamed great dreams of our future in those days,
Setting our feet on undiscovered ways,
And all I asked of fame
A scarlet cross on my breast, my Dear,
For the swords by your name.
We shall never shake the world together, you and I,
For you gave your life away;
And I think my heart was broken by the war,
Since on a summer day
You took the road we never spoke of: you and I
Dreamed greatly of an Empire in those days;
You set your feet upon the Western ways
And have no need of fame –
There’s a scarlet cross on my breast, my Dear,
And a torn cross with your name.
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Analysis (AI Assisted)
This poem traces the arc of a friendship or romantic relationship shaped by youthful idealism, military ambition, and the tragic, inevitable consequences of war. At its core, it is about loss — the loss of a companion, of shared dreams, and the hope for a future that never comes to fruition. The speaker reflects on the contrast between their youthful dreams of empire and the harsh reality that war has taken away both their future and the person they once envisioned it with.
The repetition of “We planned” in the opening lines sets the tone for the poem: it’s a reflection on shared aspirations and youthful confidence. The idea of shaking the world together is grand, almost naive, a product of the optimism of youth. They are “young, and very wise,” perhaps in the way young people often feel invincible or certain of their future. The reference to “an Empire” suggests that their dreams were not just personal but monumental, symbolizing not just individual achievement but a sense of power and legacy. They believed their futures would be tied to something greater, perhaps driven by the idealism of a generation facing the possibility of war.
The use of the “green shaded lamp” and the speaker’s reflection on the past introduces a shift from the initial optimism to a moment of quiet solitude. The contrast between the bright dreams of their youth and the quiet reality of the present, sitting under this dim lamp, shows the passage of time and the inevitable shift from youthful exuberance to the reflection of lost potential. The speaker nearly “sees your eyes / Light with the old gay laughter,” as if the memory of their companion’s joy and vitality can still be brought back to life in this moment of nostalgia. But even this fleeting vision of the past is tinged with sadness, because it highlights how different things are now — one of them is gone, and the other is left with only memories.
The second stanza shifts the focus to the present, where the speaker continues to reflect on their past ambitions. The line “Bound only by the sea” suggests the distance between the two people in the speaker’s mind — not just physical distance, but the gap between the dreams they had and the realities of their separate lives. The “chill Winter’s night” suggests a colder, darker present, contrasting sharply with the warmth and idealism of their past dreams. The speaker continues to recall their shared plans, how they envisioned their future — “undiscovered ways” that now seem unreachable, abandoned by the harshness of life and war.
In the third stanza, the tone becomes more somber, acknowledging the loss that the speaker feels. The key turning point here is “We shall never shake the world together, you and I, / For you gave your life away.” War has claimed the life of the companion, leaving the speaker to mourn both the loss of their friend and the death of their shared dreams. The mention of the scarlet cross, likely a reference to a military honor or decoration, underlines the stark reality of war — the friend’s death was not just personal loss but also a mark of honor in a brutal, impersonal conflict.
The final stanza is marked by a sense of finality. The friend is gone, “took the road we never spoke of,” implying that the death was both unexpected and inevitable. The “Western ways” might refer to the military paths that so many young men took during the war, a journey that was destined to end in death. The speaker is left with “a scarlet cross on my breast,” a symbol of their own survival, but it’s bittersweet. This cross, which might have been a shared symbol of glory, now feels hollow, representing the survivor’s burden — the cost of survival is the absence of the friend who never returned.
The closing lines are poignant and haunting. The speaker’s heart is broken, and though they have the honor of the cross, they cannot escape the grief of losing their companion. The “torn cross with your name” is a symbol of the friend’s death, perhaps a memorial or the physical mark of their sacrifice, but it also signifies the destruction of the future they had once dreamed of. The speaker is left to carry the weight of both the honor of survival and the sorrow of loss, a complex duality that war forces upon those who remain.
In conclusion, this poem is a meditation on the way war shatters dreams, friendships, and futures. It contrasts youthful idealism with the tragic, irreversible consequences of war, capturing the emotional devastation of losing someone with whom you had planned a future. The repeated references to “Empire,” “fame,” and the scarlet cross evoke a sense of both personal and historical significance, but they are ultimately hollow in the face of the profound emptiness left by the death of a loved one. The speaker’s grief is not only for the friend who is gone but also for the dreams that will never be realized.