Wilfred Owen

(1893-1918 / Shropshire / England)

Wilfred Owen Poems

1. Sonnet To My Friend - With An Identity Disc 4/1/2010
2. Maundy Thursday 4/1/2010
3. The Calls [unfinished] 1/1/2004
4. Sonnet: On Seeing A Piece Of Our Heavy Artillery Brought Into Action 4/1/2010
5. Song Of Songs 4/1/2010
6. On My Songs 4/1/2010
7. My Shy Hand 4/1/2010
8. Antaeus: [a Fragment] 4/1/2010
9. Shadwell Stair 4/1/2010
10. O World Of Many Worlds 4/1/2010
11. The Calls 1/3/2003
12. On Seeing A Piece Of Our Artillery Brought Into Action 1/3/2003
13. Spells And Incantations 1/3/2003
14. Hospital Barge At Cerisy 1/1/2004
15. Preface 1/3/2003
16. I Saw His Round Mouth's Crimson 1/3/2003
17. Storm 4/1/2010
18. On Seeing A Piece Of Our Heavy Artillery Brought Into Action 12/31/2002
19. Six O'Clock In Princes Street 1/3/2003
20. Schoolmistress 1/3/2003
21. Uriconium: An Ode 1/3/2003
22. Training 1/3/2003
23. Beauty: [notes For An Unfinished Poem] 1/1/2004
24. From My Diary, July 1914 4/1/2010
25. Red Lips Are Not So Red 1/1/2004
26. Hospital Barge 1/3/2003
27. A Terre (Being The Philosophy Of Many Soldiers) 1/3/2003
28. The Show 12/31/2002
29. The Roads Also 1/3/2003
30. The Unreturning 4/1/2010
31. The Kind Ghosts 1/3/2003
32. The Parable Of The Young Man And The Old 1/3/2003
33. As Bronze May Be Much Beautified 1/3/2003
34. Has Your Soul Sipped? 1/3/2003
35. Music 1/3/2003
36. Le Christianisme 1/3/2003
37. With An Identity Disc 1/3/2003
38. The Chances 12/31/2002
39. Happiness 1/3/2003
40. Winter Song 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Wilfred Owen

Dulce Et Decorum Est

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned out backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! - An ecstasy of fumbling
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime.- ...

Read the full of Dulce Et Decorum Est

The Chances

I mind as 'ow the night afore that show
Us five got talking, -- we was in the know,
"Over the top to-morrer; boys, we're for it,
First wave we are, first ruddy wave; that's tore it."
"Ah well," says Jimmy, -- an' 'e's seen some scrappin' --
"There ain't more nor five things as can 'appen;
Ye get knocked out; else wounded -- bad or cushy;
Scuppered; or nowt except yer feeling mushy."

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