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[Page 21]
March 31
24.
"Limehouse Nights" holds the favour beyond Mlle. de Maupin. Sol's criticism, after a pause following "Tuppy's reading it" – "awful book", as good as Sully's summing up of de Maupin – "its melopticious!" "Dauter" holds favour well. I'd intended sending it to Geoff, but will leave it for unit reading.
No confirming of losing of Vimy Ridge, report of midnight 29 admitted attack by six divisions supported by force, but reported are still holding. Saxons have been in the front, a raid last night brought prisoners – Boche labour men and pioneers. Its evident our Pioneers and theirs are of different standings.
Up at 6.30 and its raining hard: now, about 9, clouds are coming up over an April sun. The sky of evening full of strange lovely colourings – grey clouds over the bowl, and delicate reflections and [indecipherable] of lights about the horizon, now a deep sky of soft stars.
25.
Tonight out of D.R. met on duckboard Capt. Murphy and a yarning of the loveliness of the evening, of etchings – suggested by the fine silhouettes of the trees: of poetry, and the novel. So straight to Hut, and by the fire, am here listening to Sol's tales of the College, then half a dozen about us, general yarning of syphilis.
April 1
26. April
Back from De Zon Camp, hearing there of A. Section moving today to Renescure.
Losing two years, today we arrived in the mist of the morning at Marseille, and spent a day in the stream wondering at all the colours of the sun over Marseille. Losing one year, today we left Buire for Aveluy, land where the Boche rules.
27.
So dumping of books commences. This from Act 3 of Chastelard,
"Have you read never in Fr. [French] books the song
Called the Duke's song, some boy made ages back,
A song of drag nets hauled across thwart seas
And plucked up with rent sides, and caught therein
A strange-haired woman with sad singing lips
Cold in the cheek like any stray of sea,
And sweet to touch? So that men seeing her face
And how she sighed out little Ahs of pain
And soft cries sobbing sideways from her mouth,
Fell in hot love, and having lain with her
Died soon? One time I could have told it through,
Now I have kissed the sea-witch on her eyes,
And my lips ache with it: but I shall sleep
Full soon, and a good space of sleep."
Compare with Wilde's "Fisherman and his Soul".