Wilfred Owen – Anthem for Doomed Youth

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? Only the monstrous anger of the guns. Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle Can patter out their hasty orisons. No mockeries for them; no prayers nor bells, Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,-- The shrill, demented choirs...

Wilfred Owen – Asleep

Under his helmet, up against his pack, After so many days of work and waking, Sleep took him by the brow and laid him back. There, in the happy no-time of his sleeping, Death took him by the heart. There heaved a quaking Of the aborted life within him leaping, Then chest and...

Wilfred Owen – But I Was Looking at the Permanent Stars

Bugles sang, saddening the evening air, And bugles answered, sorrowful to hear. Voices of boys were by the river-side. Sleep mothered them; and left the twilight sad. The shadow of the morrow weighed on men. Voices of old despondency resigned, Bowed by the shadow of the morrow,...

Wilfred Owen – Dulce et Decorum Est

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs, And towards our distant rest began to trudge. Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots, But limped on, blood-shod. All...

Wilfred Owen – Happiness

Ever again to breathe pure happiness, So happy that we gave away our toy? We smiled at nothings, needing no caress? Have we not laughed too often since with Joy? Have we not stolen too strange and sorrowful wrongs For her hands' pardoning? The sun may cleanse, And time, and...

Wilfred Owen – Insensibility

Happy are men who yet before they are killed Can let their veins run cold. Whom no compassion fleers Or makes their feet Sore on the alleys cobbled with their brothers. The front line withers, But they are troops who fade, not flowers For poets' tearful fooling: Men, gaps for...

Wilfred Owen – 1914

War broke: and now the Winter of the worldWith perishing great darkness closes in.The foul tornado, centred at Berlin,Is over all the width of Europe whirled,Rending the sails of progress. Rent or furledAre all Art's ensigns. Verse wails. Now beginFamines of thought and feeling....

Wilfred Owen – Maundy Thursday

Between the brown hands of a server-lad The silver cross was offered to be kissed. The men came up, lugubrious, but not sad, And knelt reluctantly, half-prejudiced. (And kissing, kissed the emblem of a creed.) Then mourning women knelt; meek mouths they had, (And kissed the...

Wilfred Owen – Music

I have been urged by earnest violins And drunk their mellow sorrows to the slake Of all my sorrows and my thirsting sins. My heart has beaten for a brave drum's sake. Huge chords have wrought me mighty: I have hurled Thuds of gods' thunder. And with old winds pondered Over the...

Wilfred Owen – Shadwell Stair

I am the ghost of Shadwell Stair. Along the wharves by the water-house, And through the cavernous slaughter-house, I am the shadow that walks there. Yet I have flesh both firm and cool, And eyes tumultuous as the gems Of moons and lamps in the full Thames When dusk sails wavering...

Wilfred Owen – Red lips are not so red

Red lips are not so red As the stained stones kissed by the English dead. Kindness of wooed and wooer Seems shame to their love pure. O Love, your eyes lose lure When I behold eyes blinded in my stead! Your slender attitude Trembles not exquisite like limbs knife-skewed, Rolling...

Wilfred Owen – Soldier's Dream

I dreamed kind Jesus fouled the big-gun gears; And caused a permanent stoppage in all bolts; And buckled with a smile Mausers and Colts; And rusted every bayonet with His tears. And there were no more bombs, of ours or Theirs, Not even an old flint-lock, not even a pikel. But...

Wilfred Owen – Sonnet: On Seeing a Piece of Our Heavy

Be slowly lifted up, thou long black arm, Great Gun towering towards Heaven, about to curse; Sway steep against them, and for years rehearse Huge imprecations like a blasting charm! Reach at that Arrogance which needs thy harm, And beat it down before its sins grow worse. Spend...

Wilfred Owen – The Chances

I mind as 'ow the night afore that show Us five got talking, -- we was in the know, "Over the top to-morrer; boys, we're for it, First wave we are, first ruddy wave; that's tore it." "Ah well," says Jimmy, -- an' 'e's seen some scrappin' -- "There ain't more nor five things...

Wilfred Owen – Storm

His face was charged with beauty as a cloud With glimmering lightning. When it shadowed me I shook, and was uneasy as a tree That draws the brilliant danger, tremulous, bowed. So must I tempt that face to loose its lightning. Great gods, whose beauty is death, will laugh above, Who...

Wilfred Owen – The Kind Ghosts

She sleeps on soft, last breaths; but no ghost looms Out of the stillness of her palace wall, Her wall of boys on boys and dooms on dooms. She dreams of golden gardens and sweet glooms, Not marvelling why her roses never fall Nor what red mouths were torn to make their blooms. The...

Wilfred Owen – The Next War

War's a joke for me and you, Wile we know such dreams are true. - Siegfried Sassoon Out there, we've walked quite friendly up to Death,- Sat down and eaten with him, cool and bland,- Pardoned his spilling mess-tins in our hand. We've sniffed the green thick odour of his breath,- Our...

Wilfred Owen – The Send-Off

Down the close, darkening lanes they sang their way To the siding-shed, And lined the train with faces grimly gay. Their breasts were stuck all white with wreath and spray As men's are, dead. Dull porters watched them, and a casual tramp Stood staring hard, Sorry to miss them...

Wilfred Owen – The Unreturning

Suddenly night crushed out the day and hurled Her remnants over cloud-peaks, thunder-walled. Then fell a stillness such as harks appalled When far-gone dead return upon the world. There watched I for the Dead; but no ghost woke. Each one whom Life exiled I named and called. But...

Wilfred Owen – Winter Song

The browns, the olives, and the yellows died, And were swept up to heaven; where they glowed Each dawn and set of sun till Christmastide, And when the land lay pale for them, pale-snowed, Fell back, and down the snow-drifts flamed and flowed. From off your face, into the winds...