A few, a few, too few for drums and yells,May creep back, silent, to still village wellsUp half-known roads.
More Quotes from Wilfred Owen:
Sonnet To a Child Sweet is your antique body, not yet young Beauty withheld from youth that looks for youth Fair only for your father. Dear among Masters in art. To all men else uncouth Save me, who know your smile comes very old, Learnt of the happy dead that laughed with gods For earlier suns than ours have lent you gold Sly fauns and trees have given you jigs and nods. But soon your heart, hot-beating like a bird's, Shall slow down. Youth shall lop your hair And you must learn wry meanings in our words. Your smile shall dull, because too keen aware And when for hopes your hand shall be uncurled, Your eyes shall close, being open to the world.Wilfred Owen
No alarms
Of bugles, no high flags, no clamorous haste --
Only a lift and flare of eyes that faced
The sun, like a friend with whom their love is done.
Wilfred Owen
One dies of war like any old disease.
Wilfred Owen
After all my years of playing soldiers, and then of reading History, I have almost a mania to be in the East, to see fighting, and to serve.
Wilfred Owen
I don't ask myself, is the life congenial to me? But, am I fitted for, am I called to, the Ministry?
Wilfred Owen
Move him into the sun Gently its touch awoke him once,At home, whispering of fields unsown.Always it woke him, even in France,Until this morning and this snow.
Wilfred Owen
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