Wilfred Owen
Wilfred Owen
Wilfred Edward Salter Owen MCwas an English poet and soldier, one of the leading poets of the First World War. His shocking, realistic war poetry on the horrors of trenches and gas warfare was heavily influenced by his friend and mentor Siegfried Sassoon, and stood in stark contrast both to the public perception of war at the time and to the confidently patriotic verse written by earlier war poets such as Rupert Brooke. Among his best-known works – most of which...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth18 March 1893
poetry subject war
My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity.
death war lying
I thought of all that worked dark pits Of war, and died Digging the rock where Death reputes Peace lies indeed.
war heart hot
Heart, you were never hot Nor large, nor full like hearts made great with shot
war disease use
I tried to peg out soldierly,--no use! One dies of war like any old disease.
beauty war storm
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.
war eye boys
Walking abroad, one is the admiration of all little boys, and meets an approving glance from every eye of elderly.
war lying latin
The old Lie:Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.
sweet lying war
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.
war saws mud
I, too, saw God through mud
war moon men
No-man's land under snow is like the face of the moon: chaotic, crater ridden, uninhabitable, awful, the abode of madness.
war gun bells
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
war pity poetry-is
Above all I am not concerned with Poetry. My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity.
running fear war
Happy are men who yet before they are killed Can let their veins run cold.
children war eye
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.