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by Lieutenant William Noel Hodgson, MC

By all the glories of the day
And the cool evening's benison
By that last sunset touch that lay
Upon the hills when day was done,
By beauty lavishly outpoured
And blessings carelessly received,
By all the days that I have lived
Make me a soldier, Lord.

By all of all man's hopes and fears
And all the wonders poets sing,
The laughter of unclouded years,
And every sad and lovely thing;
By the romantic ages stored
With high endeavour that was his,
By all his mad catastrophes
Make me a man, O Lord.

I, that on my familiar hill
Saw with uncomprehending eyes
A hundred of thy sunsets spill
Their fresh and sanguine sacrifice,
Ere the sun swings his noonday sword
Must say good-bye to all of this; -
By all delights that I shall miss,
Help me to die, O Lord.

Inspiration for the Poem

The poem Before Action by Lt Noel Hodgson, MC was first published on 29 June 1916 in the weekly paper The New Witness, two days before he went into action with the 9th Battalion the Devonshire Regiment on 1 July 1916.
Inspiration for Before Action
Related Reading

Before Action - William Noel Hodgson and the 9th Devons, a Story of the Great War

by Charlotte Zeepvat

Published by Pen & Sword Military (5 Dec 2014); ISBN-10: 1783463759 and ISBN-13: 978-1783463756

William Noel Hodgson, The Gentle Poet

by Jack Medomsley

ISBN 0 9506438 2 3

Related Link

Find out more about Noel Hodgson and the book about him, published in December 2014, by author Charlotte Zeepvat. Charlotte has researched Noel and the 9th Devons for over 30 years.

Website: www.w-n-hodgson.info

Related Topics
Poems and Poets of the First World War Battle of the Somme 1916

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by Lieutenant William Noel Hodgson, MC By all the glories of the day And the cool evening's benison By that last sunset touch that lay Upon the hills when day was done, By beauty lavishly outpoured And blessings carelessly received, By all the days that I have lived Make me a soldier, Lord.

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This synod is convinced that the forces of the Allies are being used of God to
vindicate the rights of the weak and to
maintain the moral order of the world.
Anglican Synod, Melbourne, 1916.

That starey look in the eyes,

The hair down past his shoulders,

But after a go with the ship's barber,

A sea-water shower and the old slouch hat

Across his ears, he started to look the part.

Took him a while to get the way

A bayonet fits the old Lee-Enfield,

But going in on the boats

He looked calmer than any of us,

Just gazing in over the swell

Where the cliffs looked black against the sky.

When we hit he fairly raced in through the waves,

Then up the beach, swerving like a full-back at the end

When the Turks'd really got on to us.

He was off like a flash, up the cliffs,

After his first machine gun.

He'd done for three Turks when we got there,

The fourth was a gibbering mess.

Seeing him wave that blood-red bayonet,

Geoff Page, Christ at Gallopoli" text from Small Town Memorials, University of Queensland Press, 1975; audio from Coffee with Miles, Audio CD, River Road Press, 2009: by permission of River Road Press and the poet. Copyright © 1975, 2009 by Geoff Page.

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This synod is convinced that the forces of the Allies are being used of God to vindicate the rights of the weak and to maintain the moral order of the world. Anglican Synod, Melbourne, 1916.

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How To Die by Siegfried Sassoon Animation

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An animation of the Siegfried Sassoon poem 'How To Die' in honor of the WW1 Centenary.
Animated: Aslan Livingstone-Ra
Read by: David Harewood
Soldier: James Fletcher

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There's the girl who clips your ticket for the train,

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19. A Dead Boche. Graves, Robert. 1918. Fairies and Fusiliers

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19. A Dead Boche. Graves, Robert. 1918. Fairies and Fusiliers

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The Falling Leaves by Margaret Postgate Cole (AQA Anthology - Conflict)

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Comments & analysis: Who's for the game, the biggest that's played, / The red crashing game of a fight?

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Anthem for Doomed Youth by Wilfred Owen | Poetry Foundation

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What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?

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Dulce et Decorum Est by Wilfred Owen | Poetry Foundation

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Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,

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The Burning Track

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Three weeks gone and the combatants gone
returning over the nightmare ground
we found the place again, and found
the soldier sprawling in the sun.

The frowning barrel of his gun
overshadowing. As we came on
that day, he hit my tank with one
like the entry of a demon.

Look. Here in the gunpit spoil
the dishonoured picture of his girl
who has put: Steffi. Vergissmeinnicht.
in a copybook gothic script.

We see him almost with content,
abased, and seeming to have paid
and mocked at by his own equipment
that's hard and good when he's decayed.

But she would weep to see today
how on his skin the swart flies move;
the dust upon the paper eye
and the burst stomach like a cave.

For here the lover and killer are mingled
who had one body and one heart.
And death who had the soldier singled
has done the lover mortal hurt.

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Vergissmeinnicht Poem by Keith Douglas - Poem Hunter

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Three weeks gone and the combatants gonereturning over the nightmare groundwe found the place again, and foundthe soldier sprawling in the sun. The frowning barrel of his gunovershadowing. As we came onthat day, he hit my tank with onelike the entry of a demon. Look.

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Softly and humbly to the Gulf of Arabs The convoys of dead sailors come; At night they sway and wander in the waters far under, But morning rolls them in the foam.

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In the grey summer garden I shall find you
With day-break and the morning hills behind you.
There will be rain-wet roses; stir of wings;
And down the wood a thrush that wakes and sings.
Not from the past you'll come, but from that deep
Where beauty murmurs to the soul asleep:
And I shall know the sense of life re-born
From dreams into the mystery of morn
Where gloom and brightness meet. And standing there
Till that calm song is done, at last we'll share
The league-spread, quiring symphonies that are
Joy in the world, and peace, and dawn's one star.

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In the grey summer garden I shall find you With day-break and the morning hills behind you. There will be rain-wet roses; stir of wings; And down the wood a thrush that wakes and sings.

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In Flanders Fields by John McCrae | Poetry Foundation

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Futility by Wilfred Owen | Poetry Foundation

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Dear Monument Australia visitors, we are a self-funded, non-profit organisation, dedicated to recording monuments throughout Australia. Over time the costs of maintaining this website have risen substantially (in fact they are probably larger than those of many companies who exist for profit). In the past we have borne all the costs associated with maintaining the website but we are now having difficulties in paying the monthly expenses. If Monument Australia is useful to you, please make a donation to keep this historical and educational resource available. Your help would be greatly appreciated.
The plaque commemorates the poem "For England" which was written by J.D. Burns who was killed in action at Gallipoli in 1915. The plaque was funded through the Anzac Centenary Grants Program.

Corporal James Drummond Burns, 21st Battalion AIF, died aged nineteen on 18th September 1915 having already achieved fame for his poem 'For England'. He is buried in Shrapnel Valley, Anzac Cove, Gallipoli. Burns was Vice-Captain of Scotch College in 1914 and was editor of the magazine "Collegian". Scotch College's most prestigious literary prize bears his name. In the early 1950s, sixth-grade children in Victorian state schools read the poem 'For England' in their school Reader. "For England" was originally published in Scotch Collegian (Melbourne), Vol. 12, No 1, May. 1915.

The bugles of England were blowing o'er the sea
As the had called a thousand years, calling now to me
They woke me from dreaming in the dawning of the day
The bugles of England and how could I stay?

The banners of England, unfurled across the sea
Floating out upon the wind, were beckoning to me
Storm-rent and battle-torn, smoke-stained and grey
The banners of England and how could I stay?

O England! I heard the cry of those that died for thee
Sounding like an organ voice across the winter sea
They lived and died for England and gladly went their way
England! O England! How could I stay?

Note : The Lilydale Uniting Church was sold in 2014 to Melba Support Services who plan to retain the church for use by parishioners.

Location

Address:

Anderson & George Streets, Former Lilydale Uniting Church, Lilydale, 3140

GPS Coordinates:

Lat: -37.755395
Long: 145.355707
Note: GPS Coordinates are approximate.

View Google Map
Details

Dedication

Approx. Monument Dedication Date:

2015

Source: MA, DVA

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The plaque commemorates the poem "For England" which was written by J.D. Burns who was killed in action at Gallipoli in 1915. The plaque was funded through the Anzac Centenary Grants Program. Corporal James Drummond Burns, 21st Battalion AIF, died aged nineteen on 18th September 1915 having already achieved fame for his poem 'For England'.

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If I should die, think only this of me:

That there's some corner of a foreign field

That is for ever England. There shall be

In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;

A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,

Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam;

A body of England's, breathing English air,

Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,

A pulse in the eternal mind, no less

Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;

Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;

And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,

In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

Poetry Out Loud Note: This poem has had two titles: "The Soldier" and "Nineteen-Fourteen: The Soldier". The student may give either title during the recitation.

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The Soldier by Rupert Brooke | Poetry Magazine

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If I should die, think only this of me: That there's some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England. There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed; A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam; A body of England's, breathing English air, Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.