Wilfred Owen

Shall Life renew these bodies? Of a truthAll death will he annul, all tears assuage?Or fill these void veins full read more

Shall Life renew these bodies? Of a truthAll death will he annul, all tears assuage?Or fill these void veins full again with youthAnd wash with an immortal water age?

My arms have mutinied against me — brutes!My fingers fidget like ten idle brats,My back's been stiff for hours, damned read more

My arms have mutinied against me — brutes!My fingers fidget like ten idle brats,My back's been stiff for hours, damned hours.Death never gives his squad a Stand-at-ease.

Now rather thank I God there is no riskOf gravers scoring it with florid screed.Let my inscription be this soldier's read more

Now rather thank I God there is no riskOf gravers scoring it with florid screed.Let my inscription be this soldier's disc.Wear it, sweet friend. Inscribe no date nor deed.But may thy heart-beat kiss it, night and day,Until the name grow blurred and fade away.