Dulce et Decorum Est
Wilfred Owen
1893 to 1918
Track 1
Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. 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. Take your time, enjoy the process, and discover how the poet's words come together to create something truly beautiful.
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And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime.—
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Pro patria mori.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
In all my dreams before my helpless sight,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,