Anthem For Doomed Youth
What passing bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monsterous anger of the guns
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons
No mockeries for them from prayers or bells
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs-
The shrill, demented choirs of wailling shells-
And bugles calling for them from sad shires
What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall
Their flowers the tenderness of silent minds
And each slow dusk a drawing down of blinds
Wilfred Owen (Killed in action, 4 Nov. 1918)
A very sad poem, but very moving imo .
What passing bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monsterous anger of the guns
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons
No mockeries for them from prayers or bells
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs-
The shrill, demented choirs of wailling shells-
And bugles calling for them from sad shires
What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall
Their flowers the tenderness of silent minds
And each slow dusk a drawing down of blinds
Wilfred Owen (Killed in action, 4 Nov. 1918)
A very sad poem, but very moving imo .
