From a Full Heart, Alan Alexander Milne was the famous writer of the much-loved Winnie the Pooh stories and is more generally known as A. A. Milne. Born in Kilburn, London in 1882 he spent his formative years living in a small independent school which his father, John Vine Milne ran. A. A. was fortunate to have visionary novelist H. G. Wells as one of his teachers there.
He went on to study at Trinity College, Cambridge after studying first at Westminster School. Up at Cambridge his writing talents blossomed and was soon noticed by the humorous magazine “Punch”. He was invited to contribute whimsical articles and poems at first and later was appointed assistant editor.
From a Full Heart by Alan Alexander Milne
From a Full Heart
Rightly regarded me as more like
A Bishop than a Major-Gen.,
And nothing since has made me warlike;
But when this agelong struggle ends
And I have seen the Allies dish up
The goose of Hindenburg–oh, friends!
I’m going to buy some tortoises and watch the beggars sprint;
When the War is over and the sword at last we sheathe,
I’m going to keep a jelly-fish and listen to it breathe.
And any taste for red corpuscles
That lingered with me left before
The German troops had entered Brussels.
In early days the Colonel’s “Shun!”
The noise of someone else’s gun
Left me considerably colder.When the War is over and the battle has been won,
I’m going to buy a barnacle and take it for a run;
When the War is over and the German Fleet we sink,
I’m going to keep a silk-worm’s egg and listen to it think.The Captains and the Kings depart–
It may be so, but not lieutenants;
The never-ending round of penance;
One rock amid the welter stands
On which my gaze is fixed intently–
An after-life in quiet hands
Lived very lazily and gently.
I’m going to keep a chrysalis and read to it aloud;
When the War is over and we’ve finished up the show,
I’m going to plant a lemon-pip and listen to it grow.
Oh, I’m tired of the noise and the turmoil of battle,
And I’m even upset by the lowing of cattle,
And the clang of’ the bluebells is death to my liver,
And the roar of the dandelion gives me a shiver,
And a glacier, in movement, is much too exciting,
And I’m nervous, when standing on one, of alighting–
Give me Peace; that is all, that is all that I seek…
Say, starting on Saturday week.
