captain henry wentworth windsor aubrey (2 Ergebnisse)

Henry Wentworth Windsor Aubrey was commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant in the Dorset Regiment Militia on 21 April 1875, and resigned his commission three years later. He qualified as a Doctor in 1885 and practiced in Clifton, where he was a keen cricketer and golfer. During the First World War he served in the RAMC, reaching the rank of Temporary Captain (Home) on 1 December 1917. 2pp., 8vo. In good condition, on lightly-aged paper, with a couple of minor water stains to one corner. The poem is 32 lines long, divided into eight four-line stanzas, the first of which reads: 'You're blood of our blood, & bone of our bone, | For child & its parent, though twain, are but one. | T'was the soul of the sire; in heart of the son, | That levelled at Britain the patricide's gun.' The last stanza contains a reference to 'Allah'; whether because Aubrey was a Muslim, or because the scansion demanded it, is unclear (although the fact that the author enjoins the 'Sons of Freedom' to drink 'the wine of success' suggests the latter). It reads: 'Drink deep! Drink ye deep of the wine of success! | With all Heaven's blessings may great Allah bless | His warriors battling, & those 'neath the sod. | Uphold them! Protect them! and keep them, Oh God.'.

Henry Wentworth Windsor Aubrey was commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant in the Dorset Regiment Militia on 21 April 1875, and resigned his commission three years later. He qualified as a Doctor in 1885 and practiced in Clifton, where he was a keen cricketer and golfer. During the First World War he served in the RAMC, reaching the rank of Temporary Captain (Home) on 1 December 1917. The six items (including Item Four, a typescript of Item Three) are in very good condition, on lightly-aged paper. Aubrey's six poems, all apparently unpublished, are written in an effective Kiplingesque style, with occasional minor corrections to the text by him. ONE: Titled 'The Yellow Peril. Dedicated to the German Emperor'. In autograph, and signed 'H W Aubrey | May 21/04'. 5pp., 4to. Thirteen six-line stanzas. First stanza: 'Soldier of Christ on thy watch-house Tower, | Look far to the shrouded East! | Mine eyes are dark with the darkening hour, | Tell to me what thou see'st. | "I see a cloud like a man's right hand | Its shadow falls o'er The Eastern Land."' TWO: 'A Mess Waiter. [sub-titled in autograph 'RAMC Barracks Delhi Tidworth'). Typed. Signed 'HWA Feb 8/18'. 1p., foolscap 8vo. 36 lines in nine four-line stanzas. First stanza: 'I'll sing a panegyric on a waiter of the mess. | He's earned the title given him - Well! rather more than less. | You'll be as near the mark to put the cart before the horse, | The "Mess" before the waiter. But that is rude, of course.' THREE: Untitled autograph poem on 'Brimstone Bottom'. Signed 'HWA | Feb. 20/18'. On Tidworth letterhead. 2pp., 8vo. Forty-eight lines, in six eight-line stanzas. First stanza: 'I've travelled North, I've travelled South | I've travelled the East and West, | Peered down the belching crater's mouth, | And dared the great Sahara's drouth. | The rigors of malarial pest | In Afric's swamps have wracked my breast. | Whate'er these ills - Be sure it's got ''em | That damnèd spot called Brimstone Bottom.' FOUR: Typed version of Item Three. Signed in type 'HWA, | Feb 20th 18.' 1p., foolscap 8vo. FIVE: 'A Delhi Mess Drinking Song.' Mimeographed typescript. Signed in type 'H.WA | Mar. 2/18.' Forty lines in seven stanzas. First stanza: 'Come! Pass around the stately Port | But, snakes alive, don't swill it. | They'll find you, if you swallow aught, | Some Brimstone Bottom billet.' SIX: 'Arma Virumque Cano | (Stirring appeal to the Delhi Mess by Capt Jones, O.C. Digging).' [subtitled in autograph 'Transln. "Of Jones & his Tools I sing"'. Typed. 32 lines, arranged in eight four-line stanzas, with the first stanza repeated after each successive one as a chorus. First stanza: 'Dig! Brothers! Dig! Our food is running low, | Your Country calls on you to dig. Yes! Calls you to a man, | Dig! Brothers! Thus your Patriotism show, | By taters only we escape the Hun's eternal ban.'.