A few, a few, too few for drums and yells, May creep back, silent, to still village wells Up half-known roads.

Quote by Wilfred Owen

Topics: Poetry Quotes, World War I Quotes

I am only conscious of any satisfaction in Scientific Reading or thinking when it rounds...

I am only conscious of any satisfaction in Scientific Reading or thinking when it rounds...

Was it for this the clay grew tall?

Was it for this the clay grew tall?

All theological lore is becoming distasteful to me.

All theological lore is becoming distasteful to me.

My arms have mutinied against me brutes! My fingers fidget like ten idle brats, My...

My arms have mutinied against me brutes! My fingers fidget like ten idle brats, My...

I was a boy when I first realized that the fullest life liveable was a...

I was a boy when I first realized that the fullest life liveable was a...

I find purer philosophy in a Poem than in a Conclusion of Geometry, a chemical...

I find purer philosophy in a Poem than in a Conclusion of Geometry, a chemical...

If I have got to be a soldier, I must be a good one, anything...

If I have got to be a soldier, I must be a good one, anything...

Move him into the sun Gently its touch awoke him once, At home, whispering of...

Move him into the sun Gently its touch awoke him once, At home, whispering of...

Those who have no hope pass their old age shrouded with an inward gloom.

Those who have no hope pass their old age shrouded with an inward gloom.

Do you know what would hold me together on a battlefield? The sense that I...

Do you know what would hold me together on a battlefield? The sense that I...

My arms have mutinied against me brutes! My fingers fidget like ten idle brats, My...

My arms have mutinied against me brutes! My fingers fidget like ten idle brats, My...

When I begin to eliminate from the list all those professions which are impossible from...

When I begin to eliminate from the list all those professions which are impossible from...

A Poem does not grow by jerks. As trees in Spring produce a new ring...

A Poem does not grow by jerks. As trees in Spring produce a new ring...

Behold, A ram caught in a thicket by its horns; Offer the Ram of Pride...

Behold, A ram caught in a thicket by its horns; Offer the Ram of Pride...

All a poet can do today is warn.

All a poet can do today is warn.

All I ask is to be held above the barren wastes of want.

All I ask is to be held above the barren wastes of want.

Never fear: Thank Home, and Poetry, and the Force behind both.

Never fear: Thank Home, and Poetry, and the Force behind both.

My arms have mutinied against me brutes! My fingers fidget like ten idle brats, My...

My arms have mutinied against me brutes! My fingers fidget like ten idle brats, My...

Wit thou well that I will not live long after thy days.

Wit thou well that I will not live long after thy days.

Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish...

Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish...

Even when poetry has a meaning, as it usually has, it may be inadvisable to...

Even when poetry has a meaning, as it usually has, it may be inadvisable to...