Pages in this set

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Pre 1914 War


A Wife in London Pg 3
Come Up From the Fields Father Pg 4-5


Page 2

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Dirge of the Dead Sisters Pg 6
The Hyaenas Pg 7
War Pg 8-9
The Charge of Light Brigade Pg 10-11
The Battle of Blenheim Pg 12-13

A Wife in London (December, 1899) - Thomas Hardy

I--The Tragedy

She sits in the tawny vapour
That the City lanes have uprolled,…

Page 3

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He--has fallen--in the far South Land . . .

II--The Irony

'Tis the morrow; the fog hangs thicker,
The postman nears and goes:
A letter is brought whose lines disclose
By the firelight flicker
His hand, whom the worm now knows:

Fresh--firm--penned in highest feather -
Page-full of his hoped…

Page 4

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Smell you the buckwheat where the bees were lately

Above all, lo, the sky so calm, so transparent after the rain,
and with wondrous clouds,
Below too, all calm, all vital and beautiful, and the farm
prospers well.

Down in the fields all prospers well,
But now from the…

Page 5

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often waking,
In the midnight waking, weeping, longing with one deep
O that she might withdraw unnoticed, silent from life escape
and withdraw,
To follow, to seek, to be with her dear dead son.

Written by Walt Whitman
Based on the American Civil War
Colours in the suggest happiness…

Page 6

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(Bold behind the battle, in the open camp all-hallowed,
Patient, wise, and mirthful in the ringed and reeking town,
These endured unresting till they rested from their labours -
Little wasted bodies, ah, so light to lower down!)

Written by Rudyard Kipling (News reporter, usually in favour of British Empire…

Page 7

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(For a goat may butt, and a worm may sting,
And a child will sometimes stand;
But a poor dead soldier of the King
Can never lift a hand.)

They whoop and halloo and scatter the dirt
Until their tushes white
Take good hold in the army shirt,
And tug…

Page 8

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A tent, with a table athwart,
A table that's laid out for one;
A waterproof cover ­ and nought
But the limp, mangled work of a gun.
A bottle that's stuck by the pole,
A guttering dip in the neck;
The flickering light of a soul
On the wondering…

Page 9

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The Charge of the Light Brigade- Alfred Lord Tennyson

Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
'Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns!' he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

'Forward, the…

Page 10

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Their's not to reason why,
Their's but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,


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