Anthem for Doomed Youth

Wilfred Owen

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

Poems by This Author

Dulce et Decorum Est by Wilfred Owen
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks
Futility by Wilfred Owen
Move him into the sun
Greater Love by Wilfred Owen
Red lips are not so red
Shadwell Stair by Wilfred Owen
I am the ghost of Shadwell Stair
Strange Meeting by Wilfred Owen
It seemed that out of the battle I escaped
The Parable of the Old Man and the Young by Wilfred Owen
So Abram rose, and clave the wood, and went


Further Reading

Related Poems
Along with Youth
by Ernest Hemingway