Category Archives: wwi poetry

Song-Books of the War In fifty years, when peace outshines Remembrance of the battle lines, Adventurous lads will sigh and cast Proud looks upon the plundered past. On summer morn or winter’s night, Their hearts will kindle for the fight, … Continue reading →

Trench Duty Shaken from sleep, and numbed and scarce awake, Out in the trench with three hours’ watch to take, I blunder through the splashing mirk; and then Hear the gruff muttering voices of the men Crouching in cabins candle-chinked … Continue reading →

Haunted Evening was in the wood, louring with storm. A time of drought had sucked the weedy pool And baked the channels; birds had done with song. Thirst was a dream of fountains in the moon, Or willow-music blown across … Continue reading →

To My Brother Give me your hand, my brother, search my face; Look in these eyes lest I should think of shame; For we have made an end of all things base. We are returning by the road we came. … Continue reading →

Elegy To Robert Ross Your dextrous wit will haunt us long Wounding our grief with yesterday. Your laughter is a broken song; And death has found you, kind and gay. We may forget those transient thingsThat made your charm and … Continue reading →

The Dug-Out Why do you lie with your legs ungainly huddled, And one arm bent across your sullen, cold, Exhausted face? It hurts my heart to watch you, Deep-shadow’d from the candle’s guttering gold; And you wonder why I shake … Continue reading →

The Fathers Snug at the club two fathers sat, Gross, goggle-eyed, and full of chat. One of them said: ‘My eldest lad Writes cheery letters from Bagdad. But Arthur’s getting all the fun At Arras with his nine-inch gun.’ ‘Yes,’ … Continue reading →

Wirers ‘Pass it along, the wiring party’s going out’– And yawning sentries mumble, ‘Wirers going out.’ Unravelling; twisting; hammering stakes with muffled thud, They toil with stealthy haste and anger in their blood. The Boche sends up a flare. Black … Continue reading →

Break of Day There seemed a smell of autumn in the air At the bleak end of night; he shivered there In a dank, musty dug-out where he lay, Legs wrapped in sand-bags,–lumps of chalk and clay Spattering his face. … Continue reading →