Section: «Poems»
Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings:
artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.);
a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").
On My Songs
Though unseen Poets, many and many a time,Have answered me as if they knew my woe,And it might seem have fashioned so their rimeTo be my own soul's..
© Wilfred Owen
The Calls
A dismal fog-hoarse siren howls at dawn.I watch the man it calls for, pushed and drawnBackwards and forwards, helpless as a pawn.But I'm lazy, and..
© Wilfred Owen
Preface
This book is not about heroes. English Poetry is not yet fit to speakof them. Nor is it about deeds or lands, nor anything about glory..
© Wilfred Owen
On Seeing A Piece Of Our Artillery Brought Into Action
Be slowly lifted up, thou long black arm,Great gun towering towards Heaven, about to curse;Sway steep against them, and for years rehearseHuge..
© Wilfred Owen
Spells And Incantations
A vague pearl, a wan pearlYou showed me once; I peered through far-gone wintersUntil my mind was fog-bound in that gem.Blue diamonds, cold..
© Wilfred Owen
Storm
His face was charged with beauty as a cloudWith glimmering lightning. When it shadowed meI shook, and was uneasy as a treeThat draws the brilliant..
© Wilfred Owen
The Unreturning
Suddenly night crushed out the day and hurledHer remnants over cloud-peaks, thunder-walled.Then fell a stillness such as harks appalledWhen far-gone..
© Wilfred Owen
From My Diary, July 1914
LeavesMurmuring by miriads in the shimmering trees.LivesWakening with wonder in the Pyrenees.BirdsCheerily chirping in the early day.BardsSinging of..
© 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 further than their quiet home,Wives, walking..
© Wilfred Owen
Red Lips Are Not So Red
Red lips are not so redAs the stained stones kissed by the English dead.Kindness of wooed and wooerSeems shame to their love pure.O Love, your eyes..
© 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 to curse;Sway steep against them, and for years rehearseHuge..
© 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,And chuckled softly with..
© Wilfred Owen
Uriconium: An Ode
It lieth low near merry England's heartLike a long-buried sin; and EnglishmenForget that in its death their sires had part.And, like a sin, Time lays..
© Wilfred Owen
Training
Not this week nor this month dare I lie downIn languour under lime trees or smooth smile.Love must not kiss my face pale that is brown.My lips..
© 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 softly with..
© 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 a knife.And as they sojourned, both of them together,Isaac the first-born..
© Wilfred Owen
Le Christianisme
So the church Christ was hit and buriedUnder its rubbish and its rubble.In cellars, packed-up saints long serried,Well out of hearing of our..
© Wilfred Owen
Has Your Soul Sipped?
Has your soul sippedOf the sweetness of all sweets?Has it well suppedBut yet hungers and sweats?I have been witnessOf a strange sweetness,All fancy..
© Wilfred Owen
The Roads Also
The roads also have their wistful rest,When the weathercocks perch still and roost,And the looks of men turn kind to clocksAnd the trams go empty to..
© Wilfred Owen
I Saw His Round Mouth's Crimson
I saw his round mouth's crimson deepen as it fell,Like a Sun, in his last deep hour;Watched the magnificent recession of farewell,Clouding, half..
© Wilfred Owen
The Kind Ghosts
She sleeps on soft, last breaths; but no ghost loomsOut of the stillness of her palace wall,Her wall of boys on boys and dooms on dooms.She dreams of..
© Wilfred Owen
The Dead-Beat
He dropped, - more sullenly than wearily,Lay stupid like a cod, heavy like meat,And none of us could kick him to his feet;-just blinked at my..
© Wilfred Owen
The Chances
I mind as 'ow the night afore that showUs five got talking, -- we was in the know,"Over the top to-morrer; boys, we're for it,First wave we are..
© 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 and ceasedAnd from the..
© 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 laughed too often since..
© Wilfred Owen