Compensation - Revision history

TCDE-Team at 21:14, 4 April 2026

2026-04-04T21:14:42Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 23:14, 4 April 2026
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	== Compensation ==		== Compensation ==

			<poem>
	The grime is on the window pane,		The grime is on the window pane,
	Pale the London sunbeams fall,		Pale the London sunbeams fall,

TCDE-Team at 21:12, 4 April 2026

2026-04-04T21:12:37Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 23:12, 4 April 2026
Line 1:		Line 1:
	''Compensation'' is a poem written by [[Arthur Conan Doyle]] first published in the collected volume [[Songs of the Road]] on 16 march 1911.		''Compensation'' is a poem written by [[Arthur Conan Doyle]] first published in the collected volume [[Songs of the Road]] on 16 march 1911.


	__TOC__		__TOC__
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	== Compensation ==		== Compensation ==

	The grime is on the window pane,~~<br />~~		The grime is on the window pane,
	Pale the London sunbeams fall,~~<br />~~		Pale the London sunbeams fall,
	And show the smudge of mildew stain,~~<br />~~		And show the smudge of mildew stain,
	Which lies on the distempered wall.		Which lies on the distempered wall.

			I am a cripple, as you see,
	I am a cripple, as you see,~~<br />~~		And here I lie, a broken thing,
	And here I lie, a broken thing,~~<br />~~		But God has given flight to me,
	But God has given flight to me,~~<br />~~
	That mocks the swiftest eagle wing.		That mocks the swiftest eagle wing.

			For if I will to see or hear,
	For if I will to see or hear,~~<br />~~		Quick as the thought my spirit flies,
	Quick as the thought my spirit flies,~~<br />~~		And lo! the picture flashes clear,
	And lo! the picture flashes clear,~~<br />~~
	Through all the mist of centuries.		Through all the mist of centuries.

			I can recall the Tigris' strand,
	I can recall the Tigris' strand,~~<br />~~		Where once the Turk and Tartar met,
	Where once the Turk and Tartar met,~~<br />~~		When the great Lord of Samarcand
	When the great Lord of Samarcand~~<br />~~
	Struck down the Sultan Bajazet.		Struck down the Sultan Bajazet.

			Under a ten-league swirl of dust
	Under a ten-league swirl of dust~~<br />~~		The roaring battle swings and sways,
	The roaring battle swings and sways,~~<br />~~		Now reeling down, now upward thrust,
	Now reeling down, now upward thrust,~~<br />~~
	The crescent sparkles through the haze.		The crescent sparkles through the haze.

			I see the Janissaries fly,
	I see the Janissaries fly,~~<br />~~		I see the chain-mailed leader fall,
	I see the chain-mailed leader fall,~~<br />~~		I hear the Tekbar clear and high,
	I hear the Tekbar clear and high,~~<br />~~
	The true believer's battle-call.		The true believer's battle-call.

			And tossing o'er the press I mark
	And tossing o'er the press I mark~~<br />~~		The horse-tail banner over all,
	The horse-tail banner over all,~~<br />~~		Shaped like the smudge of mildew dark
	Shaped like the smudge of mildew dark~~<br />~~
	That lies on the distempered wall.		That lies on the distempered wall.

			And thus the meanest thing I see
	And thus the meanest thing I see~~<br />~~		Will set a scene within my brain,
	Will set a scene within my brain,~~<br />~~		And every sound that comes to me,
	And every sound that comes to me,~~<br />~~
	Will bring strange echoes back again.		Will bring strange echoes back again.

			Hark now! In rhythmic monotone,
	Hark now! In rhythmic monotone,~~<br />~~		You hear the murmur of the mart,
	You hear the murmur of the mart,~~<br />~~		The low, deep, unremitting moan,
	The low, deep, unremitting moan,~~<br />~~
	That comes from weary London's heart.		That comes from weary London's heart.

			But I can change it to the hum
	But I can change it to the hum~~<br />~~		Of multitudinous acclaim,
	Of multitudinous acclaim,~~<br />~~		When triple-walled Byzantium,
	When triple-walled Byzantium,~~<br />~~
	Re-echoes the Imperial name.		Re-echoes the Imperial name.

			I hear the beat of armed feet,
	I hear the beat of armed feet,~~<br />~~		The legions clanking on their way,
	The legions clanking on their way,~~<br />~~		The long shout rims from street to street,
	The long shout rims from street to street,~~<br />~~
	With rolling drum and trumpet bray.		With rolling drum and trumpet bray.

			So I hear it rising, falling,
	So I hear it rising, falling,~~<br />~~		Till it dies away once more,
	Till it dies away once more,~~<br />~~		And I hear the costers calling
	And I hear the costers calling~~<br />~~
	Mid the weary London roar.		Mid the weary London roar.

			Who shall pity then the lameness,
	Who shall pity then the lameness,~~<br />~~		Which still holds me from the ground?
	Which still holds me from the ground?~~<br />~~		Who commiserate the sameness
	Who commiserate the sameness~~<br />~~
	Of the scene that girds me round?		Of the scene that girds me round?

			Though I lie a broken wreck,
			Though I seem to want for all,
			Still the world is at my beck
			And the ages at my call.
			</poem>

	~~Though I lie a broken wreck,<br />~~
	~~Though I seem to want for all,<br />~~
	~~Still the world is at my beck<br />~~
	~~And the ages at my call.~~

TCDE-Team at 11:27, 22 July 2016

2016-07-22T11:27:29Z

New page

''Compensation'' is a poem written by [[Arthur Conan Doyle]] first published in the collected volume [[Songs of the Road]] on 16 march 1911.

__TOC__

== Editions ==

* in ''[[Songs of the Road]]'' (16 march 1911, [[Smith, Elder & Co.]] [UK])
* in ''[[Songs of the Road]]'' (october 1911, [[Doubleday & McClure Co.|Doubleday, Page & Co.]] [US])
* in ''[[Songs of the Road]]'' (27 january 1920, [[John Murray]] [UK])
* in ''[[Songs of the Road]]'' (february 1920, [[John Murray]] [UK])
* in ''[[The Poems of Arthur Conan Doyle]]'' (21 september 1922, [[John Murray]] [UK])
* in ''[[The Poems of Arthur Conan Doyle]]'' (14 september 1928, [[John Murray]]'s ''Fiction Library'' [UK])

== Compensation ==

The grime is on the window pane, 
Pale the London sunbeams fall, 
And show the smudge of mildew stain, 
Which lies on the distempered wall.

I am a cripple, as you see, 
And here I lie, a broken thing, 
But God has given flight to me, 
That mocks the swiftest eagle wing.

For if I will to see or hear, 
Quick as the thought my spirit flies, 
And lo! the picture flashes clear, 
Through all the mist of centuries.

I can recall the Tigris' strand, 
Where once the Turk and Tartar met, 
When the great Lord of Samarcand 
Struck down the Sultan Bajazet.

Under a ten-league swirl of dust 
The roaring battle swings and sways, 
Now reeling down, now upward thrust, 
The crescent sparkles through the haze.

I see the Janissaries fly, 
I see the chain-mailed leader fall, 
I hear the Tekbar clear and high, 
The true believer's battle-call.

And tossing o'er the press I mark 
The horse-tail banner over all, 
Shaped like the smudge of mildew dark 
That lies on the distempered wall.

And thus the meanest thing I see 
Will set a scene within my brain, 
And every sound that comes to me, 
Will bring strange echoes back again.

Hark now! In rhythmic monotone, 
You hear the murmur of the mart, 
The low, deep, unremitting moan, 
That comes from weary London's heart.

But I can change it to the hum 
Of multitudinous acclaim, 
When triple-walled Byzantium, 
Re-echoes the Imperial name.

I hear the beat of armed feet, 
The legions clanking on their way, 
The long shout rims from street to street, 
With rolling drum and trumpet bray.

So I hear it rising, falling, 
Till it dies away once more, 
And I hear the costers calling 
Mid the weary London roar.

Who shall pity then the lameness, 
Which still holds me from the ground? 
Who commiserate the sameness 
Of the scene that girds me round?

Though I lie a broken wreck, 
Though I seem to want for all, 
Still the world is at my beck 
And the ages at my call.

----
* [[Sir Arthur Conan Doyle:Complete Works|Back to Complete Works]]
* [[Sir Arthur Conan Doyle|Back to Conan Doyle]]