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Laurence Binyon (1869-1943) ... THE AUTHOR
Laurence Binyon, Companion of Honour, D. Litt, F. R. S., poet, historian and critic of ancient art and literature, was the son of the Vicar of Burton, Lonsdale, Lancaster, and, as he came from Quaker stock, he was a confirmed pacifist.
He was educated at St. Paul’s school, London, and Trinity College, Oxford, and entered the service of the British Museum in 1895 as an Art Historian, and later as cataloguer for classical Art.
His classical poems, noted for choice of language and perfection in form and technique, won him prizes and recognition in literary circles.
He studied the works of Gerarde Manley Hopkins, and was impressed by their spiritual content that influenced his own writing. He composed odes, often imaginative and with emotional eloquence, but, by and large, Binyon’s poems, though technically often brilliant, were too refined for general public acceptance.
An expert translator of ancient Greek poetry and plays, he became a recognised authority in this sphere and also in the field of spoken prose and poetry.
Binyon then, was the shining example (albeit in modesty), of an erudite-polished scholar whose ancestry, education and way of life made violence totally abhorrent. Nevertheless, when WWI broke, he was among the first to enlist as a non-combatant stretcher bearer. The slaughter at Mons and the Manic, where he served, appalled him, and the" Ode for the Fallen "was written with the horrors still fresh in his mind. It was published in "The Times" of 21 September 1914 and gained almost immediate universal acclaim for perfect simplicity, dignity and euphony.
The best known quatrain is said to be used wholly or in part, on more memorials than any other in the English language at commemorative services. Its aptness has been recognised by many ex-service bodies in Britain, Australia and elsewhere. It carne to be widely used in Australia after WW1.
The peace loving, gentle scholar, whose literary achievements were many, was the recipient of the Chevalier d'Honneur for bravery under fire and was also M.I.D.
HONOURED:
During September-October 1939 throughout ten Allied countries, and upon the suggestion of FIDAC (Inter-allied Federation of Ex-Servicemen), the 25th anniversary of Laurence Binyon's "For the Fallen", was observed.
This is one of the most famous and enduring war poems, and it was written at an historic moment … just after the retreat from Mons and the victory of the Marne.
As to how it came to be written, Laurence Binyon, who celebrated his 70th anniversary on 10 August 1939, says: "I can't recall the exact date beyond that it was shortly after the retreat. I was set down, out of doors, on a cliff in Polzeath, Cornwall. The stanza "They Shall Grow Not Old" was written first and dictated the rhythmical movement of the whole poem."
The FIDAC has made an appeal, asking that the poem be studied, translated, and ,commented upon by the soldiers of yesterday, and also their sons and daughters of today.
FOR THE FALLEN - by LAURENCE BINYON
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her Spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal,
Sings sorrow up into the immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation,
And a glory that shines upon our tears
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
THEY SHALL GROW NOT OLD, AS WE THAT ARE LEFT GROW OLD,
AGE SHALL NOT WEARY THEM, NOR THE YEARS CONDEMN.
AT THE GOING DOWN OF THE SUN, AND IN THE MORNING,
WE WILL REMEMBER THEM.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again,
They sit no more at familiar tables at home.
They have not lot in our labour of the daytime,
They sleep beyond England's foam.
But where our desires are, and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well spring that is hidden from sight.
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night.
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain.
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.