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Anthem for Doomed Youth. By Wilfred Owen. What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? — Only the monstrous anger of the guns. Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle. Can patter out their hasty orisons. No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells; Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,— The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
Wilfred Owen. 1893 –. 1918. We’d found an old Boche dug-out, and he knew, And gave us hell, for shell on frantic shell. Hammered on top, but never quite burst through. Rain, guttering down in waterfalls of slime. Kept slush waist high, that rising hour by hour, Choked up the steps too thick with clay to climb.
Futility. By Wilfred Owen. Move him into the sun—. Gently its touch awoke him once, At home, whispering of fields half-sown. Always it woke him, even in France, Until this morning and this snow. If anything might rouse him now. The kind old sun will know.
Sassoon’s poetic voice, with its strong emphasis on realism, influenced Owen’s developing style, as the poems ' Dulce et Decorum Est ' and ' Anthem for Doomed Youth ' demonstrate.
Strange Meeting. By Wilfred Owen. It seemed that out of battle I escaped. Down some profound dull tunnel, long since scooped. Through granites which titanic wars had groined. Yet also there encumbered sleepers groaned, Too fast in thought or death to be bestirred. Then, as I probed them, one sprang up, and stared.
The tease and doubt of shelling, And Chance’s strange arithmetic. Comes simpler than the reckoning of their shilling. They keep no check on armies’ decimation. III. Happy are these who lose imagination: They have enough to carry with ammunition. Their spirit drags no pack. Their old wounds, save with cold, can not more ache.
This poem is in the public domain. One of the most admired poets of World War I, Wilfred Edward Salter Owen is best known for his poems " Anthem for Doomed Youth " and " Dulce et Decorum Est ." He was killed in France on November 4, 1918.
