Treasure Island

Wilfred Owen

(1893-1918 / Shropshire / England)

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I Know The Music


All sounds have been as music to my listening:
Pacific lamentations of slow bells,
The crunch of boots on blue snow rosy-glistening,
Shuffle of autumn leaves; and all farewells:

Bugles that sadden all the evening air,
And country bells clamouring their last appeals
Before [the] music of the evening prayer;
Bridges, sonorous under carriage wheels.

Gurgle of sluicing surge through hollow rocks,
The gluttonous lapping of the waves on weeds,
Whisper of grass; the myriad-tinkling flocks,
The warbling drawl of flutes and shepherds' reeds.

The orchestral noises of October nights
Blowing ( ) symphonetic storms
Of startled clarions ( )
Drums, rumbling and rolling thunderous and ( ).

Thrilling of throstles in the keen blue dawn,
Bees fumbling and fuming over sainfoin-fields.

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003
Edited: Friday, July 29, 2011

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Comments about this poem (I Know The Music by Wilfred Owen )

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  • Crystal Rosser (7/26/2014 9:31:00 PM)

    He knows the music sung by nature. Stop and smell the roses and listen to their music as well... (Report) Reply

  • Ian Fraser (7/26/2011 7:07:00 PM)

    An interesting fragment. Owen used a number of the ideas, most notably the bells, in his more famous Anthem for Doomed Youth (qv) . I'm sure someone will correct me if I am wrong but I think this might be an early piece written before his war experiences, at any rate the contrast in style is stark and most revealing. (Report) Reply

  • Joseph Poewhit (7/26/2010 4:20:00 AM)

    Words project a heighten sense of reality, in a melodious musical word formation of feelings. (Report) Reply

  • Philippa Lane (7/26/2005 6:13:00 AM)

    This is a most beautiful poem. I am honoured to have read it. I can hear the bells ringing....now I must read more of your poetry. (Report) Reply

Read all 12 comments »

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