Tuesday Poem: “Anthem For Doomed Youth ” by Wilfrid Owen
Sep
24
2013
Anthem for Doomed Youth
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.
.
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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.
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by Wilfrid Owen, 1893 – 1918
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About The Poem:
I asserted last week that World War 1 marked a significant change in the treatment of war in poetry, and by poets. I also said that probably no one rang in that change more significantly than Wilfrid Owen, with his poetry that juxtaposed compassion with the grim realities of war. I feel Anthem For Doomed Youth displays both qualities, from the record of death in which there is no glory, to the blinds drawn down on a generation of young men. To requote Owen again from last week:
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“My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity.”
About The Poet:
To read a comprehensive bio of Wilfrid Owen from the Poetry Foundation, please click on his name below.
