{"id":22508,"date":"2013-09-24T12:30:27","date_gmt":"2013-09-24T00:30:27","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/?p=22508"},"modified":"2013-09-23T21:44:34","modified_gmt":"2013-09-23T09:44:34","slug":"tuesday-poem-anthem-for-doomed-youth-by-wilfrid-owen","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/2013\/09\/24\/tuesday-poem-anthem-for-doomed-youth-by-wilfrid-owen\/","title":{"rendered":"Tuesday Poem: &#8220;Anthem For Doomed Youth &#8221; by Wilfrid Owen"},"content":{"rendered":"<h3>Anthem for Doomed Youth<\/h3>\n<div>\n<div>What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 &#8212;\u00a0 Only the monstrous anger of the guns.<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Only the stuttering rifles&#8217; rapid rattle<\/div>\n<div>Can patter out their hasty orisons.<\/div>\n<div>No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells,<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,\u2014<\/div>\n<div>The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And bugles calling for them from sad shires.<br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #ffffff;\">.<\/span><\/div>\n<div>What candles may be held to speed them all?<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes<\/div>\n<div>Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes.<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The pallor of girls&#8217; brows shall be their pall;<\/div>\n<div>Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,<\/div>\n<div>And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.<br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #ffffff;\">.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div><\/div>\n<div>by Wilfrid Owen, 1893 &#8211; 1918<\/div>\n<div><\/div>\n<div>&#8212;<\/div>\n<h3>About The Poem:<\/h3>\n<p>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 <em>Anthem For Doomed Youth<\/em> 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:<em><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #ffffff;\">.<\/span><br \/>\n\u201cMy subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h3>About The Poet:<\/h3>\n<div>To read a comprehensive bio of Wilfrid Owen from the Poetry Foundation, please click on his name below.<\/div>\n<h3><a href=\"http:\/\/www.poetryfoundation.org\/bio\/wilfred-owen\">Wilfrid Owen<\/a><\/h3>\n<div><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Anthem for Doomed Youth What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 &#8212;\u00a0 Only the monstrous anger of the guns. \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Only the stuttering rifles&#8217; rapid rattle Can patter out their hasty orisons. No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells, \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,\u2014 The shrill, demented choirs of [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-22508","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22508","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=22508"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22508\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":22541,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22508\/revisions\/22541"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=22508"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=22508"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=22508"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}