Words of war poet who hid his pain can now be read in new volume published 55 years after his death

Poetry lovers will know High Wood, and its prophetic - but jokey - lines which imagine a future where tourists litter World War One killing fields with ginger-beer bottles and orange peel.

Purvis, who later in life gained international recognition as the translator of the York Mystery Plays, was only unmasked as the celebrated war poet "Philip Johnstone" by his sister after his death in 1968.

Now the University of York has published dozens more poems by Purvis, who was first director of its Borthwick Institute in 1953, in a new anthology called Versus and Fragments, Poems of the Great War.

The poetry, which was contained in a hand-written notebook given to the Institute in 1991, covers a period from 1912 when Purvis was at Cambridge studying history, later at Cranleigh School, Surrey, where he was a school teacher and then in France. They come to an end soon after Purvis learned about his brother George's death.

Gary Brannan, Keeper of Archives and Research Collections at the University, said: “We know the experiences of war affected him greatly; being part of an attack - going over the top - at High Wood in September 1916, was likely profound enough, but we know he was also deeply affected by the death of his younger brother George in action in 1917.

"He stops writing almost immediately after he learned of his brother's death.

"It was just too painful (for Purvis) to think about that period and in the end it was only after his death that it came out.

"He suffered from what you'd call post traumatic stress disorder now - then it was shellshock.

"He was clearly an incredibly talented, brave, and complex person... (we're) honoured to be able to give him the poetry volume he never had during his lifetime.”

Born in Bridlington in 1890, Purvis served with the 5th Battalion The Yorkshire Regiment (Green Howards). After the war he taught classics and was ordained, later becoming a Canon at York Minster. He was director of the Borthwick Institute from 1953 to 1963. He died in 1968.

Mr Brannan says Purvis’s presence is still felt, although they don’t work in the same building he did.

He works at Purvis's desk and his research notes and catalogues are still around.

“He is everywhere – his handwriting is on lots of boxes. You do feel him around,” he said, adding that he hoped Purvis would be “quietly quite happy” about their decision to publish his poetry.