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I thought of all that worked dark pits Of war, and died Digging the rock where Death reputes Peace lies indeed.

Wilfred Owen

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Wilfred Owen
Age: 25 †
Born: 1893
Born: March 18
Died: 1918
Died: November 4
Poet
Writer
Oswestry
Shropshire
Wilfred Edward Salter Owen
Owen
Dark
Pits
Lying
Digging
Peace
Indeed
War
Rock
Death
Worked
Thought
Died
Rocks
Lies

More quotes by Wilfred Owen

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All a poet can do today is warn.
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I am only conscious of any satisfaction in Scientific Reading or thinking when it rounds off into a poetical generality and vagueness.
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Dead men may envy living mites in cheese, Or good germs even. Microbes have their joys, And subdivide, and never come to death.
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Sweet and fitting it is to die for the fatherland.
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The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds, And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
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Above all I am not concerned with Poetry. My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity.
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The Young Soldier It is not death Without hereafter To one in dearth Of life and its laughter, Nor the sweet murder Dealt slow and even Unto the martyr Smiling at heaven: It is the smile Faint as a (waning) myth, Faint, and exceeding small On a boy's murdered mouth.
Wilfred Owen
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I was a boy when I first realized that the fullest life liveable was a Poet's
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The war affects me less than it ought. But I can do no service to anybody by agitating for news or making dole over the slaughter.
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Flying is the only active profession I could ever continue with enthusiasm after the War.
Wilfred Owen
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Was it for this the clay grew tall? O what made fatuous sunbeams toil To break earth's sleep at all?
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And some cease feeling Even themselves or for themselves. Dullness best solves The tease and doubt of shelling
Wilfred Owen
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And Death fell with me, like a deepening moan. And He, picking a manner of worm, which half had hid Its bruises in the earth, but crawled no further, Showed me its feet, the feet of many men, And the fresh-severed head of it, my head.
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And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall, By his dead smile I knew we stood in Hell.
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Never fear: Thank Home, and Poetry, and the Force behind both.
Wilfred Owen
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I, too, saw God through mud - The mud that cracked on cheeks when wretches smiled. War brought more glory to their eyes than blood, And gave their laughs more glee than shakes a child.
Wilfred Owen
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I have perceived much beauty In the hoarse oaths that kept our courage straight Heard music in the silentness of duty Found peace where shell-storms spouted reddest spate.
Wilfred Owen
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For by my glee might many men have laughed, And of my weeping may something have been left, Which must die now.
Wilfred Owen
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The old happiness is unreturning. Boy's griefs are not so grievous as youth's yearning. Boys have no sadness sadder than our hope.
Wilfred Owen
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Be bullied, be outraged, by killed, but do not kill.
Wilfred Owen