Post by BereniceUK on Apr 12, 2017 7:55:04 GMT
The chancel screen is a WW1 memorial.
Nowell Oxland
William J Little
John R Cranston
Joseph H Dowson
Henry Abbott
James Bennett
James D Nicholson
Stephen Dickinson
Harold F Walton
Lloyd M Thompson
Walter Davidson
William E Featherstone
Dacre Dickinson
Herbert J Jackson
Walton Shield
Frank Milligan
Ernest Wymes
John A Havelock
John Robson
Joseph Collinson
Andrew Douglas
William Turnbull
Thomas E Spark
Thomas Archer
Thomas Ramsay
Harry J Vipond
John Douglas
Errington Beadle
Albert E Alderson
William C Brown
Robert Atkinson
Thomas Moore
Herbert Rutherford
Thomas Henderson
Walter Ralph
Alice Renwick
Private Thomas Archer
Gunner Errington Beadle
Private William Collins Brown
Private William John Little
Bugler James Nicholson
Private Thomas Ramsey
W A A C Alice Renwick
Lieutenant Nowell Oxland, 6th Border Regiment. Killed in action on 9th August 1915, aged 24. Son of the Rev. W. Oxland, R.N., and Caroline Amy Oxland, of 41, Outram Road, Southsea, Portsmouth. dalyhistory.wordpress.com/2012/04/21/lieutenant-nowall-oxland-portsmouths-war-poet/
IN LOVING MEMORY OF NOWELL OXLAND
OF WORCESTER COLLEGE OXFORD
LIEUTENANT 6TH BATTALION BORDER REGIMENT
KILLED AT GALLIPOLI AUGUST 9TH 1915
Outward Bound
There's a waterfall I'm leaving
Running down the rocks in foam,
There's a pool for which I'm grieving
Near the water-ouzel's home,
And it's there that I'd be lying
With the heather close at hand,
And the Curlew’s faintly crying
Mid the wastes of Cumberland.
While the midnight watch is winging
Thoughts of other days arise.
I can hear the river singing
Like the Saints in Paradise;
I can see the water winking
Like the merry eyes of Pan,
And the slow half-pounders sinking
By the bridges’ granite span.
Ah! To win them back and clamber
Braced anew with winds I love,
From the rivers’ stainless amber
To the morning mist above,
See through clouds-rifts rent asunder
Like a painted scroll unfurled,
Ridge and hollow rolling under
To the fringes of the world.
Now the weary guard are sleeping,
Now the great propellers churn,
Now the harbour lights are creeping
Into emptiness astern,
While the sentry wakes and watches
Plunging triangles of light
Where the water leaps and catches
At our escort in the night.
Great their happiness who seeing
Still with unbenighted eyes
Kin of theirs who gave them being,
Sun and earth that made them wise,
Die and feel their embers quicken
Year by year in summer time,
When the cotton grasses thicken
On the hills they used to climb.
Shall we also be as they be,
Mingled with our mother clay,
Or return no more it may be?
Who has knowledge, who shall say?
Yet we hope that from the bosom
Of our shaggy father Pan,
When the earth breaks into blossom
Richer from the dust of man,
Though the high Gods smith and slay us,
Though we come not whence we go,
As the host of Menelaus
Came there many years ago;
Yet the self-same wind shall bear us
From the same departing place
Out across the Gulf of Saros
And the peaks of Samothrace;
We shall pass in summer weather,
We shall come at eventide,
When the fells stand up together
And all quiet things abide;
Mixed with cloud and wind and river,
Sun-distilled in dew and rain,
One with Cumberland for ever
We shall go not forth again.
Nowell Oxland
William J Little
John R Cranston
Joseph H Dowson
Henry Abbott
James Bennett
James D Nicholson
Stephen Dickinson
Harold F Walton
Lloyd M Thompson
Walter Davidson
William E Featherstone
Dacre Dickinson
Herbert J Jackson
Walton Shield
Frank Milligan
Ernest Wymes
John A Havelock
John Robson
Joseph Collinson
Andrew Douglas
William Turnbull
Thomas E Spark
Thomas Archer
Thomas Ramsay
Harry J Vipond
John Douglas
Errington Beadle
Albert E Alderson
William C Brown
Robert Atkinson
Thomas Moore
Herbert Rutherford
Thomas Henderson
Walter Ralph
Alice Renwick
Private Thomas Archer
Gunner Errington Beadle
Private William Collins Brown
Private William John Little
Bugler James Nicholson
Private Thomas Ramsey
W A A C Alice Renwick
Lieutenant Nowell Oxland, 6th Border Regiment. Killed in action on 9th August 1915, aged 24. Son of the Rev. W. Oxland, R.N., and Caroline Amy Oxland, of 41, Outram Road, Southsea, Portsmouth. dalyhistory.wordpress.com/2012/04/21/lieutenant-nowall-oxland-portsmouths-war-poet/
IN LOVING MEMORY OF NOWELL OXLAND
OF WORCESTER COLLEGE OXFORD
LIEUTENANT 6TH BATTALION BORDER REGIMENT
KILLED AT GALLIPOLI AUGUST 9TH 1915
Outward Bound
There's a waterfall I'm leaving
Running down the rocks in foam,
There's a pool for which I'm grieving
Near the water-ouzel's home,
And it's there that I'd be lying
With the heather close at hand,
And the Curlew’s faintly crying
Mid the wastes of Cumberland.
While the midnight watch is winging
Thoughts of other days arise.
I can hear the river singing
Like the Saints in Paradise;
I can see the water winking
Like the merry eyes of Pan,
And the slow half-pounders sinking
By the bridges’ granite span.
Ah! To win them back and clamber
Braced anew with winds I love,
From the rivers’ stainless amber
To the morning mist above,
See through clouds-rifts rent asunder
Like a painted scroll unfurled,
Ridge and hollow rolling under
To the fringes of the world.
Now the weary guard are sleeping,
Now the great propellers churn,
Now the harbour lights are creeping
Into emptiness astern,
While the sentry wakes and watches
Plunging triangles of light
Where the water leaps and catches
At our escort in the night.
Great their happiness who seeing
Still with unbenighted eyes
Kin of theirs who gave them being,
Sun and earth that made them wise,
Die and feel their embers quicken
Year by year in summer time,
When the cotton grasses thicken
On the hills they used to climb.
Shall we also be as they be,
Mingled with our mother clay,
Or return no more it may be?
Who has knowledge, who shall say?
Yet we hope that from the bosom
Of our shaggy father Pan,
When the earth breaks into blossom
Richer from the dust of man,
Though the high Gods smith and slay us,
Though we come not whence we go,
As the host of Menelaus
Came there many years ago;
Yet the self-same wind shall bear us
From the same departing place
Out across the Gulf of Saros
And the peaks of Samothrace;
We shall pass in summer weather,
We shall come at eventide,
When the fells stand up together
And all quiet things abide;
Mixed with cloud and wind and river,
Sun-distilled in dew and rain,
One with Cumberland for ever
We shall go not forth again.