be claimed by those anxious to show that this young poet's roots strike deeper than I have suggested that this poem resembles Browning's Caliban on Setebos. The book at first seems merely smart, buoyed on good health and good fortune, "like little wanton boys who swim on bladders."
STAND TO: GOOD FRIDAY MORNING
I'd been on duty from two till four.
I went and stared at the dug-out door.
Down in the frowst I heard them snore.
"Stand to!" Somebody grunted and swore.
Dawn was misty; the skies were still;
Larks were singing, discordant and shrill;
They seemed happy; but I felt ill.
Deep in water I splashed my way
Up the trench to our bogged front line.
Rain had fallen the whole damned night,
O Jesus, send me a wound to-day,
And I'll believe in Your bread and wine,
And get my bloody old sins washed white.
Graves' tone is more felicitous in this vein, his cynicism is less consciously aggressive.
STRONG BEER
······
Tell us, now, how and when
We may find the bravest men? . . .
Oh, never choose as Gideon chose
By the cold well, but rather those
Who look on beer when it is brown,
Smack their lips and gulp it down.
Leave the lads who tamely drink
With Gideon by the water brink,
But search the benches of the Plough,
The Tun, The Sun, The Spotted Cow,
For jolly rascals, lads who pray,
Pewter in hand, at close of day,
"Teach me to live that I may fear
The grave as little as my beer."
