“The rank stench of those bodies haunts me still” (Siegfried Sassoon Poems)
The rank stench of those bodies haunts me stillAnd I remember things I'd best forget.For now we've marched to a ...
The rank stench of those bodies haunts me stillAnd I remember things I'd best forget.For now we've marched to a ...
Have you forgotten yet?... For the world's events have rumbled on since those gagged days, Like traffic checked while at ...
When roaring gloom surged inward and you cried, Groping for friendly hands, and clutched, and died, Like racing smoke, swift ...
I've never ceased to curse the day I signed A seven years' bargain for the Golden Fleece. 'Twas a bad ...
Ring your sweet bells; but let them be farewells To the green-vista'd gladness of the past That changed us into ...
Let my soul, a shining tree, Silver branches lift towards thee, Where on a hallowed winter's night The clear-eyed angels ...
GOD with a Roll of Honour in His hand Sits welcoming the heroes who have died, While sorrowless angels ranked ...
In gold and grey, with fleering looks of sin, I watch them come; by two, by three, by four, Advancing ...
Sleep; and my song shall build about your bed A paradise of dimness. You shall feel The folding of tired ...
Voices moving about in the quiet house: Thud of feet and a muffled shutting of doors: Everyone yawning. Only the ...
He primmed his loose red mouth and leaned his head Against a sorrowing angel's breast, and said: 'You'd think so ...
Dim, gradual thinning of the shapeless gloom Shudders to drizzling daybreak that reveals Disconsolate men who stamp their sodden boots ...
I Because the night was falling warm and still Upon a golden day at April's end, I thought; I will ...
Where have you been, South Wind, this May-day morning,- With larks aloft, or skimming with the swallow, Or with blackbirds ...
Shepherds go whistling on their way In the spring season of the year; One watches weather-signs of day; One of ...
Dark clouds are smouldering into red While down the craters morning burns. The dying soldier shifts his head To watch ...
I've had a good bump round; my little horse Refused the brook first time, Then jumped it prime; And ran ...
You think I cannot understand. Ah, but I do... I have been wrung with anger and compassion for you. I ...
When I'm asleep, dreaming and lulled and warm,- They come, the homeless ones, the noiseless dead. While the dim charging ...
The boys came back. Bands played and flags were flying, And Yellow-Pressmen thronged the sunlit street To cheer the soldiers ...
When meadows are grey with the morn In the dusk of the woods it is night: The oak and the ...
Ye hooded witches, baleful shapes that moan, Quench your fantastic lanterns and be still; For now the moon through heaven ...
You like my bird-sung gardens: wings and flowers; Calm landscapes for emotion; star-lit lawns; And Youth against the sun-rise ... ...
Propped on a stick he viewed the August weald; Squat orchard trees and oasts with painted cowls; A homely, tangled ...
The House is crammed: tier beyond tier they grin And cackle at the Show, while prancing ranks Of harlots shrill ...
He stood alone in some queer sunless place Where Armageddon ends. Perhaps he longed For days he might have lived; ...
Cry out on Time that he may take away Your cold philosophies that give no hint Of spirit-quickened flesh; fall ...
In fifty years, when peace outshines Remembrance of the battle lines, Adventurous lads will sigh and cast Proud looks upon ...
Dusk in the rain-soaked garden, And dark the house within. A door creaked: someone was early To watch the dawn ...
(ALEXANDRIA-MARSEILLES) Out in the blustering darkness, on the deck A gleam of stars looks down. Long blurs of black, The ...
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