Futility
Wilfred Owen
1893 to 1918
Track 1
Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. You can also use the up (↑) and down (↓) arrows to move a line one place at a time, or the top (⇑) and bottom (⇓) arrows to move a line directly to the top or bottom. Your goal is to reassemble the original poem as accurately as possible. As you move the lines, you'll see whether your arrangement is correct, helping you explore the poem's flow and meaning. You can also print out the jumbled poem to cut up and reassemble in the classroom. Either way, take your time, enjoy the process, and discover how the poet's words come together to create something truly beautiful.
Easy Mode - Auto check enabled
Are limbs, so dear-achieved, are sides
To break earth's sleep at all?
Until this morning and this snow.
The kind old sun will know.
Gently its touch awoke him once,
Full-nerved, still warm, too hard to stir?
If anything might rouse him now
Move him into the sun—
At home, whispering of fields half-sown.
Woke once the clays of a cold star.
Always it woke him, even in France,
Think how it wakes the seeds—
Was it for this the clay grew tall?
—O what made fatuous sunbeams toil
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