A Terre (being the philosophy of many soldiers) (Wilfred Owen Poems)
Sit on the bed. I'm blind, and three parts shell.Be careful; can't shake hands now; never shall.Both arms have mutinied ...
Sit on the bed. I'm blind, and three parts shell.Be careful; can't shake hands now; never shall.Both arms have mutinied ...
Seeing we never found gay fairyland(Though still we crouched by bluebells moon by moon)And missed the tide of Lethe; yet ...
Cramped in that funnelled hole, they watched the dawnOpen a jagged rim around; a yawnOf death's jaws, which had all ...
I Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knife us . . . Wearied we keep awake ...
Under his helmet, up against his pack, After the many days of work and waking, Sleep took him by the ...
Let the boy try along this bayonet-blade How cold steel is, and keen with hunger of blood; Blue with all ...
Red lips are not so red As the stained stones kissed by the English dead. Kindness of wooed and wooer ...
After the blast of lightning from the east, The flourish of loud clouds, the Chariot throne, After the drums of ...
(Another version of "A Terre".) To Siegfried Sassoon My arms have mutinied against me -- brutes! My fingers fidget like ...
(Being the philosophy of many Soldiers.) Sit on the bed; I'm blind, and three parts shell, Be careful; can't shake ...
"I will to the King, And offer him consolation in his trouble, For that man there has set his teeth ...
I Happy are men who yet before they are killed Can let their veins run cold. Whom no compassion fleers ...
My soul looked down from a vague height with Death, As unremembering how I rose or why, And saw a ...
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