Poems by Wilfred Owen
Insensibility
... VIBut cursed are dullards whom no cannon stuns, ...
The Dead-Beat
... Malingering? Stretcher-bearers winked, "Not half!"Next day I heard the Doc ...
The Show
... Brown strings towards strings of gray, with bristling spines, ...
The Chances
... " "Ah well," says Jimmy, -- an' 'e's seen some scrappin' -- ...
Music
... And songs more sweet than possible things are sweet ...
Dulce Et Decorum Est Pro Patria Mori
... Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, ...
Spring Offensive [unfinished]
... No alarms Of bugles, no high flags, no clamorous haste, - ...
Schoolmistress
... There, while she heard the classic lines repeat, ...
A New Heaven (To-On Active Service)
... yet are soon For that new bridge that leaves old Styx half-spanned ...
The Wrestlers
... Forth to the town he strode, and through the streets, ...
From My Diary, July 1914
... Leaves Murmuring by miriads in the shimmering trees ...
The Letter
... Jim? 'Ere! Write my old girl, Jim, there's a dear ...
1914
... For after Spring had bloomed in early Greece, ...
Has Your Soul Sipped?
... On his lips. But with the bitter blood ...
The Calls [unfinished]
... And listens for the shell-shrieks and the crumps, ...
