Index talk:A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919.djvu
Still to do
edit- DoneCREATE AUTHOR PAGES
- DoneCHECK Author pages for more red (err) links to TWP
- Done<br /> vice {{nop}}
- DoneCREATE TITLE REDIRECTS & VERSION/DISAMBIGUATION PAGES:
Other matter
edit- Not in 1917 edition, yet hosted here from 1919 edition:
Formatting guide/suggestions for this text (as every text has its own unique idiosyncrasies)
editPoems which appear on a single page only
editStandard title:
Note: A trailing {{tl|gap}} is used at the end of the first line IF text wrapping occurs due to drop-initial use. It is not usually necessary to use a trailing gap. It may be lengthened if necessary (e.g., {{gap|4em}}, etc.) {{Anchor|Peace}} {{center|PEACE}} {{block center|{{drop initial|N}}OW, God be thanked Who has matched us with His hour,{{gap}}<br /> {{gap}}And caught our youth, and wakened us from sleeping,... {{right|[[Author:Rupert Brooke|''Rupert Brooke'']]}}}}
PEACE
NOW, God be thanked Who has matched us with His hour,
And caught our youth, and wakened us from sleeping,...
With subtitles:
{{Anchor|In Flanders Fields}} {{center|IN FLANDERS FIELDS}} {{center|{{smaller|[Reprinted by permission of the Proprietors of ''[[Punch]]''.]}}}} {{block center|{{drop initial|I}}N Flanders fields the poppies blow{{gap}}<br /> Between the crosses, row on row,... {{right|''[[Author:John McCrae (1872-1918)|John McCrae]]''}}}}
IN FLANDERS FIELDS
[Reprinted by permission of the Proprietors of Punch.]
IN Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,...
Other additions:
{{right|''[[Author:John Galsworthy|John Galsworthy]]''}} {{smaller|[From ''[[A Sheaf]]''. Copyright, 1916, by Charles Scribner's Sons.]}}
[From A Sheaf. Copyright, 1916, by Charles Scribner's Sons.]
{{right|''[[Author:Charles Hamilton Sorley|Charles Hamilton Sorley]]''}} {{smaller|''June'' 12, 1915.}}
June 12, 1915.
Poems which span multiple pages
editFirst page
editStandard header:
{{rule}} {{rh|142|REFLECTIONS|}} OR {{rh||REFLECTIONS|143}} {{rule}}
Body:
{{Anchor|Sonnets written in the Autumn of 1914}} {{c|SONNETS WRITTEN IN THE AUTUMN OF 1914}} {{block center/s}} {{c|I}} {{drop initial|A}}WAKE, ye nations, slumbering supine,<br /> {{gap}}Who round enring the European fray!...
SONNETS WRITTEN IN THE AUTUMN OF 1914
I
AWAKE, ye nations, slumbering supine,
Who round enring the European fray!...
Footer:
{{block center/e}} {{smallrefs}} (if references)
Middle page(s)
editHeader:
{{rule}} {{rh|142|REFLECTIONS|}} OR {{rh||REFLECTIONS|143}} {{rule}} {{block center/s}}
Body:
{{c|II}} Far fall the day when England's realm shall see<br /> {{gap}}The sunset of dominion!...
II
Far fall the day when England's realm shall see
The sunset of dominion!...
Footer:
{{block center/e}} {{smallrefs}} (if references)
Final page
editHeader:
{{rule}} {{rh|142|REFLECTIONS|}} OR {{rh||REFLECTIONS|143}} {{rule}} {{block center/s}}
Body:
...For those ideals for which, since Homer sang,<br /> {{gap}}The hosts of thirty centuries have died. {{right|''[[Author:George Edward Woodberry|George Edward Woodberry]]''}} {{block center/e}}
...For those ideals for which, since Homer sang,
The hosts of thirty centuries have died.
Footer:
{{smallrefs}} (if references)
Crazy formatting
editNOTE: Gaps for poetry are much too wide; they really need to be 1em width. How 'bout a {{pgap}} for poem gap? (half serious)...
{{Anchor|Before Ginchy}} {{c|BEFORE GINCHY}} {{c|{{sc|September, 1916}}}} {{block center/s}} {{drop initial|{{gap|1em}}Y}}ON poisonous clod,<br /> (Look! I could touch it with my stick!) that lies<br /> {{gap|1em}}In the next ulcer of this shell-pock'd land<br /> {{gap}}To that which holds me now;<br /> Yon carrion, with its devil-swarm of flies<br /> {{gap|1em}}That scorn the protest of the limp, cold hand,<br /> {{gap}}Seeming half-rais'd to shield the matted brow;<br /> {{gap|3em}}Those festering rags whose colour mocks the sod;<br /> {{gap|5em}}And, O ye gods, those eyes!<br /> {{gap|5em}}Those staring, staring eyes!. . .
September, 1916
YON poisonous clod,
(Look! I could touch it with my stick!) that lies
In the next ulcer of this shell-pock'd land
To that which holds me now;
Yon carrion, with its devil-swarm of flies
That scorn the protest of the limp, cold hand,
Seeming half-rais'd to shield the matted brow;
Those festering rags whose colour mocks the sod;
And, O ye gods, those eyes!
Those staring, staring eyes!
Special cases
edit''{{overfloat left|align=right|"}}{{drop initial|I}} WILL die cheering, if I needs must die'';{{gap|6em}}<br /> {{gap}}''So shall my last breath write upon my lips . . .''<br />
"I WILL die cheering, if I needs must die;
So shall my last breath write upon my lips...
Other
edit— Ç ç È è É é ë ê ï à á ä â t Æ æ œ ô Ü ü
- Place the {{nop}} template at the body's end on pages that (1) end between stanzas or (2) end with a completed poem thusly:
(1)
Him Prince of Peace, though unenthroned, we hail,<br /> {{gap}}Supreme when in all bosoms He be heard. {{nop}}
(2)
For those ideals for which, since Homer sang,<br /> {{gap}}The hosts of thirty centuries have died. {{right|''[[Author:George Edward Woodberry|George Edward Woodberry]]''}} {{block center/e}} {{nop}}
- Render two line spaces between stanzas thusly:
{{gap}}Though not to me the golden morn appears,<br /> My faith is perfect in time's issue fair. For man doth build on an eternal scale,<br /> {{gap}}And his ideals are framed of hope deferred<br />
Though not to me the golden morn appears,
My faith is perfect in time's issue fair.
For man doth build on an eternal scale,
And his ideals are framed of hope deferred;
{{***|8|char=.}}
........
{{letter spacing|1.5em|  * * * * *}}
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