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 ...
The beautiful, the fair, the elegant,Is that which pleases us, says Kant,Without a thought of interest or advantage.I used to ...
The beautiful, the fair, the elegant,Is that which pleases us, says Kant,Without a thought of interest or advantage.I used to ...
Seeing we never found gay fairyland(Though still we crouched by bluebells moon by moon)And missed the tide of Lethe; yet ...
So neck to stubborn neck, and obstinate knee to knee,Wrestled those two; and peerless HeraclesCould not prevail, nor get at ...
War broke: and now the Winter of the worldWith perishing great darkness closes in.The foul tornado, centred at Berlin,Is over ...
Bugles sang, saddening the evening air,And bugles answered, sorrowful to hear.Voices of boys were by the river-side.Sleep mothered them; and ...
One ever hangs where shelled roads part.In this war He too lost a limb,But His disciples hide apart;And now the ...
As bronze may be much beautifiedBy lying in the dark damp soil,So men who fade in dust of warfare fadeFairer, ...
Cramped in that funnelled hole, they watched the dawnOpen a jagged rim around; a yawnOf death's jaws, which had all ...
,Like a Sun, in his last deep hour;Watched the magnificent recession ...
Not one corner of a foreign fieldBut a span as wide as Europe;An appearance of a titan's grave,And the length ...
'O Jesus Christ! I'm hit,' he said; and died. Whether he vainly cursed, or prayed indeed, The Bullets chirped - ...
(Another version of "A Terre".) To Siegfried Sassoon My arms have mutinied against me -- brutes! My fingers fidget like ...
Move him into the sun -- Gently its touch awoke him once, At home, whispering of fields unsown. Always it ...
(Being the philosophy of many Soldiers.) Sit on the bed; I'm blind, and three parts shell, Be careful; can't shake ...
Head to limp head, the sunk-eyed wounded scanned Yesterday's Mail; the casualties (typed small) And (large) Vast Booty from our ...
"I will to the King, And offer him consolation in his trouble, For that man there has set his teeth ...
I Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knife us . . . Wearied we keep awake ...
I Happy are men who yet before they are killed Can let their veins run cold. Whom no compassion fleers ...
This book is not about heroes. English Poetry is not yet fit to speak of them. Nor is it about ...
He dropped, -- more sullenly than wearily, Lay stupid like a cod, heavy like meat, And none of us could ...
It is not death Without hereafter To one in dearth Of life and its laughter, Nor the sweet murder Dealt ...
His fingers wake, and flutter up the bed. His eyes come open with a pull of will, Helped by the ...
Under his helmet, up against his pack, After the many days of work and waking, Sleep took him by the ...
My soul looked down from a vague height with Death, As unremembering how I rose or why, And saw a ...
Let the boy try along this bayonet-blade How cold steel is, and keen with hunger of blood; Blue with all ...
I mind as 'ow the night afore that show Us five got talking, -- we was in the know, "Over ...
Red lips are not so red As the stained stones kissed by the English dead. Kindness of wooed and wooer ...
Be slowly lifted up, thou long black arm, Great gun towering towards Heaven, about to curse; Sway steep against them, ...
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