5 may 1928 (2 resultados)

My Village
Cau, Jean [Drawings by Siné [Maurice Sinet (31 December 1928 - 5 May 2016), known professionally as Siné, was a French political cartoonist].
Editorial: Published by Paul Elek Books Limited, 14 Great James Street, London First UK Edition . 1961., 1961
- Tapa dura
- Primera edición
Librería: Little Stour Books PBFA Member, Canterbury, Reino UnidoLittle Stour Books PBFA Member
Contactar con el vendedorVendedor de 5 estrellasMiembro de asociación: PBFA
Condición: Usado - Bueno
EUR 24,12
Envío por EUR 35,13Se envía de Reino Unido a Estados Unidos de AmericaCantidad disponible: 1 disponible
Añadir al carritoCondición: Very Good. First UK edition hard back binding in publisher's original illustrated paper covered boards. Quarto 10'' x 7½''. Contains 93 printed pages of text with humorous monochrome cartoon illustrations throughout. Light spotting to the end papers and in Very Good clean condition, no dust wrapper. Member of the P.B.F.A. HUMOUR (Satire, Cartoon).…
Idioma: Inglés
Editorial: Self Published, London, 1914
- Tapa blanda
- Primera edición
- Manuscrito/papel coleccionable
Librería: The Secret Bookshop, Tararua, Nueva ZelandaThe Secret Bookshop
Contactar con el vendedorVendedor de 5 estrellasCondición: Usado - Aceptable
EUR 181,87
Envío por EUR 28,25Se envía de Nueva Zelanda a Estados Unidos de AmericaCantidad disponible: 1 disponible
Añadir al carritoSoft cover. Condición: Good. 1st Edition. This original emotive poem by Barry Pain in the authors original hand which is signed and dated when the author was working for the Westminster Gazette in November 1914 is in good condition for its age. Two sided with fold creases, minor foxing and a little splitting to the very tips of the folds. The poem is as follows. I dreamed that overhead I saw in twilight grey The Army of the Dead Marching upon its way, So still and passionless, With faces so serene, That scarcely could one guess Such men in war had been. No mark of hurt they bore, Nor smoke, nor bloody stain; Nor suffered any more Famine, fatigue, or pain; Nor any lust of hate Now lingered in their eyes — Who have fulfilled their fate, Have lost all enmities. A new and greater pride So quenched the pride of race That foes marched side by side Who once fought face to face. That ghostly army's plan Knows but one race, one rod — All nations there are Man, And the one King is God. No longer on their ears The bugle's summons falls; Beyond these angled spheres The Archangel's trumpet calls; And by that trumpet led Far up the exalted sky The Army of the Dead Goes by, and still goes by — Look upward, standing mute.…