Anthem for Doomed Youth

Wilfred Owen

1893 to 1918

Poem Image
Track 1

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Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all?
β€” Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,β€”
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;

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