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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.
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
Feet
Bruises
Head
Worm
Half
Picking
Death
Worms
Earth
Showed
Crawled
Many
Fell
Severed
Men
Manner
Deepening
Like
Fresh
Moan
More quotes by Wilfred Owen
Then, when much blood had clogged their chariot-wheels I would go up and wash them from sweet wells, Even with truths that lie too deep for taint. I would have poured my spirit without stint But not through wounds not on the cess of war.
Wilfred Owen
So secretly, like wrongs hushed-up, they went.
Wilfred Owen
Heart, you were never hot Nor large, nor full like hearts made great with shot
Wilfred Owen
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.
Wilfred Owen
As bronze may be much beautified by lying in the dark damp soil, so men who fade in dust of warfare fade fairer, and sorrow blooms their soul.
Wilfred Owen
I, too, saw God through mud
Wilfred Owen
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest to children ardent for some desperate glory. The old lie: It is sweet and fitting that you should die for your country.
Wilfred Owen
For by my glee might many men have laughed, And of my weeping may something have been left, Which must die now.
Wilfred Owen
I am only conscious of any satisfaction in Scientific Reading or thinking when it rounds off into a poetical generality and vagueness.
Wilfred Owen
I was a boy when I first realized that the fullest life liveable was a Poet's
Wilfred Owen
All I ask is to be held above the barren wastes of want.
Wilfred Owen
I don't ask myself, is the life congenial to me? But, am I fitted for, am I called to, the Ministry?
Wilfred Owen
Sweet and fitting it is to die for the fatherland.
Wilfred Owen
All a poet can do today is warn.
Wilfred Owen
The marvel is that we did not all die of cold. As a matter of fact, only one of my party actually froze to death before he could be got back, but I am not able to tell how many have ended up in hospital. We were marooned in a frozen desert. There was not a sign of life on the horizon and a thousand signs of death.
Wilfred Owen
My subject is war, and the pity of war.
Wilfred Owen
Children are not meant to be studied, but enjoyed. Only by studying to be pleased do we understand them.
Wilfred Owen
Escape? There is one unwatched way: your eyes. O Beauty! Keep me good that secret gate.
Wilfred Owen
I tried to peg out soldierly,--no use! One dies of war like any old disease.
Wilfred Owen
My soul's a little grief, grappling your chest, To climb your throat on sobs easily chased On other sighs and wiped by fresher winds.
Wilfred Owen