Category Archives: wwi poetry

“Lines Written in Surrey, 1917,” George Herbert Clarke

Posted on July 24, 2011 by Victoria Janssen

Lines Written in Surrey, 1917 A sudden swirl of song in the bright sky— The little lark adoring his lord the sun; Across the corn the lazy ripples run; Under the eaves, conferring drowsily, Doves droop or amble; the agile … Continue reading →

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“In the Trenches,” Maurice Hewlett

Posted on July 17, 2011 by Victoria Janssen

In the Trenches As I lay in the trenches Under the Hunter’s Moon, My mind ran to the lenches Cut in a Wiltshire down. I saw their long black shadows, The beeches in the lane, The gray church in the … Continue reading →

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“Courage,” Dyneley Hussey

Posted on July 10, 2011 by Victoria Janssen

Courage Alone amid the battle-din untouched Stands out one figure beautiful, serene; No grime of smoke nor reeking blood hath smutched The virgin brow of this unconquered queen. She is the Joy of Courage vanquishing The unstilled tremors of the … Continue reading →

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“Buttons,” Carl Sandburg

Posted on July 3, 2011 by Victoria Janssen

Buttons I have been watching the war map slammed up for advertising in front of the newspaper office. Buttons—red and yellow buttons—blue and black buttons—are shoved back and forth across the map. A laughing young man, sunny with freckles, Climbs … Continue reading →

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“To His Dead Body,” Siegfried Sassoon

Posted on June 19, 2011 by Victoria Janssen

To His Dead Body When roaring gloom surged inward and you cried, Groping for friendly hands, and clutched, and died, Like racing smoke, swift from your lolling head phantoms of thought and memory thinned and fled. Yet, though my dreams … Continue reading →

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“Two Hundred Years After,” Siegfried Sassoon

Posted on June 12, 2011 by Victoria Janssen

Two Hundred Years After Trudging by Corbie Ridge one winter’s night, (Unless old hearsay memories tricked his sight) Along the pallid edge of the quiet sky He watched a nosing lorry grinding on, And straggling files of men; when these … Continue reading →

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“They,” Siegfried Sassoon

Posted on June 5, 2011 by Victoria Janssen

They The Bishop tells us: ‘When the boys come back ‘They will not be the same; for they’ll have fought ‘In a just cause: they lead the last attack ‘On Anti-Christ; their comrades’ blood has bought ‘New right to breed … Continue reading →

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“The Dead,” Rupert Brooke

Posted on May 30, 2011 by Victoria Janssen

The Dead I Blow out, you bugles, over the rich Dead! There’s none of these so lonely and poor of old, But, dying, has made us rarer gifts than gold. These laid the world away; poured out the red Sweet … Continue reading →

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“The One-Legged Man,” Siegfried Sassoon

Posted on May 29, 2011 by Victoria Janssen

The One-Legged Man Propped on a stick he viewed the August weald; Squat orchard trees and oasts with painted cowls; A homely, tangled hedge, a corn-stalked field, And sound of barking dogs and farmyard fowls. And he’d come home again … Continue reading →

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“Enemies,” Siegfried Sassoon

Posted on May 22, 2011 by Victoria Janssen

Enemies He stood alone in some queer sunless place Where Armageddon ends. Perhaps he longed For days he might have lived; but his young face Gazed forth untroubled: and suddenly there thronged Round him the hulking Germans that I shot … Continue reading →

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