{"product_id":"collected-poems-of-w-h-auden-isbn-9780679731979","title":"Collected Poems of W. H. Auden","description":"Between 1927 and his death in 1973, W. H. Auden endowed poetry in the English language with a new face.  Or rather, with several faces, since his work ranged from the political to the religious, from the urbane to the pastoral, from the mandarin to the invigoratingly plain-spoken.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis collection presents all the poems Auden wished to preserve, in the texts that received his final approval. It includes the full contents of his previous collected editions along with all the later volumes of his shorter poems. Together, these works display the astonishing range of Auden's voice and the breadth of his concerns, his deep knowledge of the traditions he inherited, and his ability to recast those traditions in modern times.W. H. Auden was born in York, England, in 1907. His first book of poems was published in 1930, followed by a dozen volumes of shorter and longer poems. He collaborated on three plays with Christopher Isherwood and wrote books about his travels to Iceland (with Louis MacNeice) and wartime China (with Christopher Isherwood). In 1939 he settled in New York and became an American citizen in 1946. In collaboration with his companion Chester Kallman, he composed opera libretti for Igor Stravinsky, Hans Werner Henze, and Nicholas Nabokov. In 1972 Auden left his winter home in New York and returned to Oxford. He died in Vienna in 1973.Chapter 1\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePART I\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePAID ON BOTH SIDES\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA Charade\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo Cecil Day-Lewis\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCharacters\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLintzgarthNattrass\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJohn NowerAaron Shaw*****\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDickSeth Shaw\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGeorge****The Spy—Seth’s Brother\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWalterBernard\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKurtSeth’s Mother***\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCulleyAnne Shaw\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eStephen**\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eZeppel—John Nower’s Servant\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNumber Six\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSturton\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJoan—Mother of John Nower\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTrudy***\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFather Christmas*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Doctor\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBo****\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePo*****\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Man-Woman\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Doctor’s Boy**\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Photographer*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Announcer*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Chief Guest*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Butler*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Chorus\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe starred parts should be doubled\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[No scenery is required. The stage should have a curtained-off recess. The distinction between the two hostile parties should be marked by different coloured arm-bands. the chorus, which should not consist of more than three persons, wear similar and distinctive clothing.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[Enter trudy and walter.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etrudy: You’ve only just heard?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewalter: Yes. A breakdown at the Mill needed attention, kept me all morning. I guessed no harm. But lately, riding at leisure, Dick met me, panted disaster. I came here at once. How did they get him?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etrudy: In Kettledale above Colefangs road passes where high banks overhang dangerous from ambush. To Colefangs had to go, would speak with Layard, Jerry and Hunter with him only. They must have stolen news, for Red Shaw waited with ten, so Jerry said, till for last time unconscious. Hunter was killed at first shot. They fought, exhausted ammunition, a brave defence but fight no more.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewalter: Has Joan been told yet?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etrudy: Yes. It couldn’t be helped. Shock, starting birth pangs, caused a premature delivery.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewalter: How is she?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etrudy: Bad, I believe. But here’s the doctor.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[Enter doctor.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWell, Doctor, how are things going?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003edoctor: Better thanks. We’ve had a hard fight, but it’s going to be all right. She’ll pull through and have a fine infant as well. My God, I’m thirsty after all that. Where can I get a drink?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewalter: Here in the next room, Doctor.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[Exeunt. Back curtains draw. joan with child and corpse.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejoan:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNot from this life, not from this life is any\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo keep; sleep, day and play would not help there,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDangerous to new ghost; new ghost learns from many,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLearns from old termers what death is, where.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWho’s jealous of his latest company,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrom one day to the next final to us,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA changed one, would use sorrow to deny\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSorrow, to replace death? Sorrow is sleeping thus.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eUnforgetting is not today’s forgetting\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor yesterday, not bedrid scorning,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut a new begetting,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAn unforgiving morning.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[Baby squeals.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eO see, he is impatient\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo pass beyond this pretty lisping time:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere’ll be some crying out when he’s come there.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[Back curtains close.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003echorus:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCan speak of trouble, pressure on men\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBorn all the time, brought forward into light\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor warm dark moan.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThough heart fears all heart cries for, rebuffs with mortal beat\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSkyfall, the legs sucked under, adder’s bite.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat prize held out of reach\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGuides the unwilling tread,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe asking breath,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTill on attended bed\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOr in untracked dishonour comes to each\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis natural death.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe pass our days\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSpeak, man to men, easy, learning to point,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo jump before ladies, to show our scars:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut no,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe were mistaken, these faces are not ours.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThey smile no more when we smile back:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEyes, ears, tongue, nostrils bring\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNews of revolt, inadequate counsel to\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAn infirm king.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eO watcher in the dark, you wake\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOur dream of waking, we feel\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYour finger on the flesh that has been skinned,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBy your bright day\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSee clear what we were doing, that we were vile.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYour sudden hand\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShall humble great\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePride, break it, wear down to stumps old systems which await\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe last transgression of the sea.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[Enter john nower and dick.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejohn nower: If you have really made up your mind, Dick, I won’t try and persuade you to stop. But I shall be sorry to lose you.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003edick: I have thought it all over and I think it is the best thing to do. My cousin writes that the ranch is a thoroughly good proposition. I don’t know how I shall like the Colonies but I feel I must get away from here. There is not room enough . . . but the actual moving is unpleasant.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejohn nower: I understand. When are you thinking of sailing?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003edick: My cousin is sailing to-morrow. If I am going I am to join him at the Docks.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejohn nower: Right. Tell one of the men to go down to the post-office and send a wire for you. If you want anything else, let me know.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003edick: Thank you.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[Exit dick. Enter zeppel.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ezeppel: Number Six wishes to see you, sir.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejohn nower: All right, show him in.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[Enter number six.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWell, what is it?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003enumber six: My area is Rookhope. Last night at Horse and Farrier, drank alone, one of Shaw’s men. I sat down friendly next till muzzed with drink and lateness he was blabbing. Red Shaw goes to Brandon Walls to-day, visits a woman.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejohn nower: Alone?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003enumber six: No, sir. He takes a few. I got no numbers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejohn nower: This is good news. Here is a pound for you.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003enumber six: Thank you very much, sir.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[Exit number six.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejohn nower: Zeppel.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ezeppel: Sir.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejohn nower: Ask George to come here at once.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ezeppel: Very good, sir.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[john gets a map out. Enter george.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejohn nower: Red Shaw is spending the day at Brandon Walls. We must get him. You know the ground well, don’t you, George?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003egeorge: Pretty well. Let me see the map. There’s a barn about a hundred yards from the house. Yes, here it is. If we can occupy that without attracting attention it will form a good base for operations, commands both house and road. If I remember rightly, on the other side of the stream is a steep bank. Yes, you can see from the contours. They couldn’t get out that way, but lower down is marshy ground and possible. You want to post some men there to catch those who try.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejohn nower: Good. Who do you suggest to lead that party?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003egeorge: Send Sturton. He knows the whole district blindfold. He and I as boys fished all those streams together.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejohn nower: I shall come with you. Let’s see: it’s dark now about five. Fortunately there’s no moon and it’s cloudy. We’ll start then about half-past. Pick your men and get some sandwiches made up in the kitchen. I’ll see about the ammunition if you will remember to bring a compass. We meet outside at a quarter past.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[Exeunt. Enter kurt and culley.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ekurt: There’s time for a quick one before changing. What’s yours?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eculley: I’ll have a sidecar, thanks.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ekurt: Zeppel, one sidecar and one C.P.S. I hear Chapman did the lake in eight.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eculley: Yes, he is developing a very pretty style. I am not sure though that Pepys won’t beat him next year if he can get out of that double kick. Thanks. Prosit.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ekurt: Cheerio.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[Enter walter and trudy.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewalter: Two half pints, Zeppel, please. [To kurt.] Can you let me have a match? How is the Rugger going?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ekurt: All right, thank you. We have not got a bad team this season.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewalter: Where do you play yourself?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ekurt: Wing 3Q.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewalter: Did you ever see Warner? No, he’d be before your time. You remember him don’t you, Trudy?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etrudy: He was killed in the fight at Colefangs, wasn’t he?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewalter: You are muddling him up with Hunter. He was the best three- quarter I have ever seen. His sprinting was marvellous to watch.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ezeppel (producing Christmas turkey): Not bad eh?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etrudy (feeling it): Oh a fine one. For tomorrow’s dinner?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ezeppel: Yes. Here, puss . . . gobble, gobble . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etrudy (to walter): What have you got Ingo for Christmas?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewalter: A model crane. Do you think he will like it?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etrudy: He loves anything mechanical. He’s so excited he can’t sleep.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ekurt: Come on, Culley, finish your drink. We must be getting along.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[To walter.] You must come down to the field on Monday and\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003esee us.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewalter: I will if I can.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[Exit kurt and culley.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etrudy: Is there any news yet?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewalter: Nothing has come through. If things are going right they may be back any time now.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etrudy: I suppose they will get him?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewalter: It’s almost certain. Nower has waited long enough.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etrudy: I am sick of this feud. What do we want to go on killing each other for? We are all the same. He’s trash, yet if I cut my finger it bleeds like his. But he’s swell, keeps double shifts working all night by flares: His mother squealed like a pig when he came crouching out.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSometimes we read a sign, cloud in the sky,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe wet tracks of a hare, quicken the step\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePromise the best day. But here no remedy\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIs to be thought of, no news but the new death;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA Nower dragged out in the night, a Shaw\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAmbushed behind the wall. Blood on the ground\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWould welcome fighters. Last night at Hammergill\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA boy was born fanged like a weasel. I am old,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShall die before next winter, but more than once shall hear\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe cry for help, the shooting round the house.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewalter: The best are gone.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOften the man, alone shut, shall consider\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe killings in old winters, death of friends.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSitting with stranger shall expect no good.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSpring came, urging to ships, a casting off,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut one would stay, vengeance not done; it seemed\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDoubtful to them that they would meet again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFording in the cool of the day they rode\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo meet at crossroads when the year was over:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDead is Brody, such a man was Maul.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI will say this not falsely; I have seen\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe just and the unjust die in the day,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAll, willing or not, and some were willing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHere they are.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[Enter john nower, george, sturton and others. The three speak alternately.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDay was gone, Night covered sky,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBlack over earth, When we came there,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo Brandon Walls, Where Red Shaw lay\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHateful and sleeping, Unfriendly visit.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI wished to revenge, Quit fully\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWho my father at Colefangs valley,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLying in ambush, Cruelly shot,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWith life for life.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen watchers saw They were attacked,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShouted in fear, A night alarm\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo men asleep, Doomed men awoke,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFelt for their guns, Ran to the doors,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWould wake their master Who lay with woman,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eUpstairs together, Tired after love.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe saw then There would be shooting\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHard fight.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShot answered shot, Bullets screamed,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGuns shook, Hot in the hand,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFighters lay, Groaning on ground\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGave up life. Edward fell,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShot through the chest, First of our lot,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBy no means refused fight, Stephen was good,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis first encounter, Showed no fear,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWounded many.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen Shaw knew We were too strong,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWould get away Over the moor,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eReturn alive, But found at the ford\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSturton waiting, Greatest gun-anger,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere he died, Nor any came,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFighters home, Nor wives shall go\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSmiling to bed. They boast no more.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[stephen suddenly gets up.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003estephen: A forward forward can never be a backward backward.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003egeorge: Help me put Stephen to bed, somebody. He got tight on the way back. Hullo, they’ve caught a spy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003evoices outside: Look out. There he is. Catch him. Got you.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[Enter kurt and others with prisoner.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ekurt: We found this chap hiding in an outhouse.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejohn nower: Bring him here. Who are you?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003estephen: I know him. I saw him once at Eickhamp. He’s Seth Shaw’s brother.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejohn nower: He is, is he. What do you come here for? You know what we do to spies. I’ll destroy the whole lot of you. Take him out.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003espy: You may look big, but we’ll get you one day, Nower.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[Exeunt all but john nower, stephen following.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003estephen: Don’t go, darling.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[john nower sits. A shot outside followed by cheers.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[Enter zeppel.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ezeppel: Will you be wanting anything more to-night, sir?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejohn nower: No, that will be all thank you.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ezeppel: Good night, sir.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejohn nower:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAlways the following wind of history\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOf others’ wisdom makes a buoyant air\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTill we come suddenly on pockets where\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIs nothing loud but us; where voices seem\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAbrupt, untrained, competing with no lie\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOur fathers shouted once. They taught us war,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo scamper after darlings, to climb hills,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo emigrate from weakness, find ourselves\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe easy conquerors of empty bays:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut never told us this, left each to learn,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHear something of that soon-arriving day\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen to gaze longer and delighted on\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA face or idea be impossible.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCould I have been some simpleton that lived\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBefore disaster sent his runners here:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYounger than worms, worms have too much to bear.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYes, mineral were best: could I but see\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThese woods, these fields of green, this lively world\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSterile as moon.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003echorus:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Spring unsettles sleeping partnerships,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFoundries improve their casting process, shops\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOpen a further wing on credit till\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe winter. In summer boys grow tall\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWith running races on the froth-wet sand,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWar is declared there, here a treaty signed;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHere a scrum breaks up like a bomb, there troops\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDeploy like birds. But proudest into traps\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHave fallen. These gears which ran in oil for week\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBy week, needing no look, now will not work;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThose manors mortgaged twice to pay for love\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGo to another.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eO how shall man live\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhose thought is born, child of one farcical night,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo find him old? The body warm but not\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBy choice, he dreams of folks in dancing bunches,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOf tart wine spilt on home-made benches,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhere learns, one drawn apart, a secret will\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRestore the dead; but comes thence to a wall.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOutside on frozen soil lie armies killed\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWho seem familiar but they are cold.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNow the most solid wish he tries to keep\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis hands show through; he never will look up,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSay “I am good”. On him misfortune falls\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMore than enough. Better where no one feels,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe out-of-sight, buried too deep for shafts.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[Enter father christmas. He speaks to the audience.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efather christmas: Ladies and Gentlemen: I should like to thank you all very much for coming here to-night. Now we have a little surprise for you. When you go home, I hope you will tell your friends to come and bring the kiddies, but you will remember to keep this a secret, won’t you? Thank you. Now I will not keep you waiting any longer.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[Lights. A trial. john nower as the accuser. The spy as accused. joan as his warder with a gigantic feeding bottle. father christmas as president, the rest as jury, wearing school caps.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efather christmas: Is there any more evidence?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejohn nower: Yes. I know we have and are making terrific sacrifices, but we cannot give in. We cannot betray the dead. As we pass their graves can we be deaf to the simple eloquence of their inscriptions, those who in the glory of their early manhood gave up their lives for us? No, we must fight to the finish.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efather christmas: Very well. Call the witness.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[Enter bo.]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebo:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn these days during the migrations, days\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFreshening with rain reported from the mountains,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBy loss of memory we are reborn,","brand":"Vintage","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46300950462693,"sku":"NP9780679731979","price":30.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780679731979.jpg?v=1767723908","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/collected-poems-of-w-h-auden-isbn-9780679731979","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}