The Calls [Unfinished] – Wilfred Owen

The Calls [unfinished] A dismal fog-hoarse siren howls at dawn. I watch the man it calls for, pushed and drawn Backwards and forwards, helpless as…

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Hospital Barge – Wilfred Owen

Hospital Barge Budging the sluggard ripples of the Somme, A barge round old Cérisy slowly slewed. Softly her engines down the current screwed, And chuckled…

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Shadwell Stair – 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…

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Conscious – Wilfred Owen

Conscious His fingers wake, and flutter up the bed. His eyes come open with a pull of will, Helped by the yellow may-flowers by his…

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The Parable Of The Old Man And The Young – Wilfred Owen

The Parable Of The Old Man And The Young So Abram rose, and clave the wood, and went, And took the fire with him, and…

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Music – 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…

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Apologia Pro Poemate Meo – Wilfred Owen

Apologia Pro Poemate Meo I, too, saw God through mud– The mud that cracked on cheeks when wretches smiled. War brought more glory to their…

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Strange Meeting – Wilfred Owen

Strange Meeting It seemed that out of the battle I escaped Down some profound dull tunnel, long since scooped Through granites which Titanic wars had…

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Hospital Barge At Cerisy – Wilfred Owen

Hospital Barge At Cerisy Budging the sluggard ripples of the Somme, A barge round old Cérisy slowly slewed. Softly her engines down the current screwed,…

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Training – Wilfred Owen

Training Not this week nor this month dare I lie down In languour under lime trees or smooth smile. Love must not kiss my face…

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Six O’clock In Princes Street – Wilfred Owen

Six O’Clock In Princes Street In twos and threes, they have not far to roam, Crowds that thread eastward, gay of eyes; Those seek no…

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Cramped In That Funnelled Hole – Wilfred Owen

Cramped In That Funnelled Hole Cramped in that funnelled hole, they watched the dawn Open a jagged rim around; a yawn Of death’s jaws, which…

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The Parable Of The Young Man And The Old – Wilfred Owen

The Parable Of The Young Man And The Old So Abram rose, and clave the wood, and went, And took the fire with him, and…

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My Shy Hand – Wilfred Owen

My Shy Hand My shy hand shades a hermitage apart, – O large enough for thee, and thy brief hours. Life there is sweeter held…

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Antaeus -A Fragment – Wilfred Owen

Antaeus -a Fragment So neck to stubborn neck, and obstinate knee to knee, Wrestled those two; and peerless Heracles Could not prevail, nor get at…

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Storm – 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…

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Greater Love – Wilfred Owen

Greater Love Red lips are not so red As the stained stones kissed by the English dead. Kindness of wooed and wooer Seems shame to…

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Wild With All Regrets – Wilfred Owen

Wild With All Regrets (Another version of “A Terre”.) To Siegfried Sassoon My arms have mutinied against me — brutes! My fingers fidget like ten…

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S.I.W. – Wilfred Owen

S.I.W. “I will to the King, And offer him consolation in his trouble, For that man there has set his teeth to die, And being…

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But I Was Looking At The Permanent Stars – 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…

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The Next War – 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…

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Miners – Wilfred Owen

Miners There was a whispering in my hearth, A sigh of the coal. Grown wistful of a former earth It might recall. I listened for…

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Antaeus [A Fragment] – Wilfred Owen

Antaeus [a Fragment] So neck to stubborn neck, and obstinate knee to knee, Wrestled those two; and peerless Heracles Could not prevail, nor get at…

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Spring Offensive – Wilfred Owen

Spring Offensive 1 Halted against the shade of a last hill, 2 They fed, and, lying easy, were at ease 3 And, finding comfortable chests…

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Happiness – 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…

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The Young Soldier – Wilfred Owen

The Young Soldier It is not death Without hereafter To one in dearth Of life and its laughter, Nor the sweet murder Dealt slow and…

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Roundel – Wilfred Owen

Roundel In Shrewsbury Town e’en Hercules wox tired, Tired of the streets that end not up nor down; Tired of the Quarry, though seats may…

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Beauty- Notes For An Unfinished Poem – Wilfred Owen

Beauty- notes For An Unfinished Poem The beautiful, the fair, the elegant, Is that which pleases us, says Kant, Without a thought of interest or…

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The Letter – Wilfred Owen

The Letter With B.E.F. Jun 10. Dear Wife, (Oh blast this pencil. ‘Ere, Bill, lend’s a knife.) I’m in the pink at present, dear. I…

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Mental Cases – Wilfred Owen

Mental Cases Who are these? Why sit they here in twilight? Wherefore rock they, purgatorial shadows, Drooping tongues from jays that slob their relish, Baring…

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Anthem For Doomed Youth – 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…

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The Calls – Unfinished – Wilfred Owen

The Calls – Unfinished A dismal fog-hoarse siren howls at dawn. I watch the man it calls for, pushed and drawn Backwards and forwards, helpless…

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Has Your Soul Sipped – Wilfred Owen

Has Your Soul Sipped Has your soul sipped Of the sweetness of all sweets? Has it well supped But yet hungers and sweats? I have…

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Uriconium- An Ode – Wilfred Owen

Uriconium- An Ode It lieth low near merry England’s heart Like a long-buried sin; and Englishmen Forget that in its death their sires had part….

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Red Lips Are Not So Red – 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…

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Beauty- [Notes For An Unfinished Poem] – Wilfred Owen

Beauty- [notes For An Unfinished Poem] The beautiful, the fair, the elegant, Is that which pleases us, says Kant, Without a thought of interest or…

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The Last Laugh – Wilfred Owen

The Last Laugh ‘Oh! Jesus Christ! I’m hit,’ he said; and died. Whether he vainly cursed or prayed indeed, The Bullets chirped-In vain, vain, vain!…

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Maundy Thursday – 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,…

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An Imperial Elegy – Wilfred Owen

An Imperial Elegy Not one corner of a foreign field But a span as wide as Europe; An appearance of a titan’s grave, And the…

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Sonnet To My Friend – With An Identity Disc – Wilfred Owen

Sonnet To My Friend – With An Identity Disc If ever I had dreamed of my dead name High in the heart of London, unsurpassed…

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From My Diary, July 1914 – Wilfred Owen

From My Diary, July 1914 Leaves Murmuring by miriads in the shimmering trees. Lives Wakening with wonder in the Pyrenees. Birds Cheerily chirping in the…

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The Unreturning – 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…

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Preface – Wilfred Owen

Preface This book is not about heroes. English Poetry is not yet fit to speak of them. Nor is it about deeds or lands, nor…

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Beauty – Wilfred Owen

Beauty The beautiful, the fair, the elegant, Is that which pleases us, says Kant, Without a thought of interest or advantage. I used to watch…

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The Kind Ghosts – 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…

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Le Christianisme – Wilfred Owen

Le Christianisme So the church Christ was hit and buried Under its rubbish and its rubble. In cellars, packed-up saints long serried, Well out of…

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A Terre (Being The Philosophy Of Many Soldiers) – Wilfred Owen

A Terre (Being The Philosophy Of Many Soldiers) Sit on the bed. I’m blind, and three parts shell. Be careful; can’t shake hands now; never…

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Spells And Incantations – Wilfred Owen

Spells And Incantations A vague pearl, a wan pearl You showed me once; I peered through far-gone winters Until my mind was fog-bound in that…

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Exposure – Wilfred Owen

Exposure I 1 Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knife us … 2 Wearied we keep awake because the night is…

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Winter Song – 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…

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Schoolmistress – Wilfred Owen

Schoolmistress Schoolmistress Having, with bold Horatius, stamped her feet And waved a final swashing arabesque O’er the brave days of old, she ceased to bleat,…

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At A Calvary Near The Ancre – Wilfred Owen

At A Calvary Near The Ancre One ever hangs where shelled roads part. In this war He too lost a limb, But His disciples hide…

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The End – Wilfred Owen

The End After the blast of lightning from the east, The flourish of loud clouds, the Chariot throne, After the drums of time have rolled…

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Inspection – Wilfred Owen

Inspection ‘You! What d’you mean by this?’ I rapped. ‘You dare come on parade like this?’ ‘Please, sir, it’s-‘ ”Old yer mouth,’ the sergeant snapped….

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A Terre – Wilfred Owen

A Terre (Being the philosophy of many Soldiers.) Sit on the bed; I’m blind, and three parts shell, Be careful; can’t shake hands now; never…

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Sonnet On Seeing A Piece Of Our Heavy Artillery Brought Into Action – Wilfred Owen

Sonnet On Seeing A Piece Of Our Heavy Artillery Brought Into Action Be slowly lifted up, thou long black arm, Great Gun towering towards Heaven,…

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Futility – Wilfred Owen

Futility 1 Move him into the sun– 2 Gently its touch awoke him once, 3 At home, whispering of fields unsown. 4 Always it awoke…

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The Show – Wilfred Owen

The Show My soul looked down from a vague height with Death, As unremembering how I rose or why, And saw a sad land, weak…

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On Seeing A Piece Of Our Heavy Artillery Brought Into Action – Wilfred Owen

On Seeing A Piece Of Our Heavy Artillery Brought Into Action Be slowly lifted up, thou long black arm, Great Gun towering towards Heaven, about…

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Beauty [Notes For An Unfinished Poem] – Wilfred Owen

Beauty [notes For An Unfinished Poem] The beautiful, the fair, the elegant, Is that which pleases us, says Kant, Without a thought of interest or…

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