A Consecration

 

THEIRS be the music, the colour, the glory, the gold;

Mine be a handful of ashes, a mouthful of mould.

Of the maimed, of the halt and the blind in the rain and the cold –

Of these shall my songs be fashioned, my tales be told.

from 'A Consecration' 

(Full Poem on-line here)  

 

John Masefield's first published anthology of poems (Salt-Water Ballads, 1902) began with a dedication of his poetic efforts to the 'dirt and the dross, the dust and scum of the earth' - the down-trodden, the oppressed, the powerless - not the hard-hearted 'ruler' but the hard-working 'ranker'.  Not then, nor for the rest of his life, was he afraid - having once himself counted among them - to sing of the unsung.

In the near half-century since his death, Masefield has drifted rather from public attention. and, in the literary world, himself become one of these hard workers who 'cannot be known'.  I would like, hopefully after Masefield's humble and understated way, also to sing of his largely unsung work.  In time, I hope that this small blog, a modest tribute to Masefield the man and to Masefield the poet, will offer a succession of  illustrations of his life and of his works.

Happy reading!  I very much hope that it is enjoyable.