Who is Wilfred Owen

Wilfred Edward Salter Owen MC (18 March 1893 – 4 November 1918) was an English poet and soldier. He was one of the leading poets of the First World War. His war poetry on the horrors of trenches and gas warfare was much influenced by his mentor Siegfried Sassoon and stood in contrast to the public perception of war at the time and to the confidently patriotic verse written by earlier war poets such as Rupert Brooke. Among his best-known works – most of which were published posthumously – are "Dulce et Decorum est", "Insensibility", "Anthem for Doomed Youth", "Futility", "Spring Offensive" and "Strange Meeting".

Early life

Owen was born on 18 March 1893 at Plas Wilmot, a house in Weston Lane, near Oswestry in Shropshire. He was the eldest of Thomas and (Harrie...
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Wilfred Owen Poems

  • I Know The Music
    All sounds have been as music to my listening:
    Pacific lamentations of slow bells,
    The crunch of boots on blue snow rosy-glistening,
    Shuffle of autumn leaves; and all farewells: ...
  • The Next War
    War's a joke for me and you,
    Wile we know such dreams are true.
    - Siegfried Sassoon
    ...
  • Has Your Soul Sipped?
    Has your soul sipped
    Of the sweetness of all sweets?
    Has it well supped
    But yet hungers and sweats? ...
  • An Imperial Elegy
    Not one corner of a foreign field
    But a span as wide as Europe;
    An appearance of a titan's grave,
    And the length thereof a thousand miles, ...
  • Storm
    His face was charged with beauty as a cloud
    With glimmering lightning. When it shadowed me
    I shook, and was uneasy as a tree
    That draws the brilliant danger, tremulous, bowed. ...
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Top 10 most used topics by Wilfred Owen

Life 23 Time 22 Long 22 Death 22 God 20 Never 19 Love 19 I Love You 19 Night 18 Cold 16


Wilfred Owen Quotes

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Comments about Wilfred Owen

Aliterarybot: think how it wakes the seeds— woke once the clays of a cold star. are limbs, so dear-achieved, are sides full-nerved, still warm, too hard to stir? was it for this the clay grew tall? —o what made fatuous sunbeams toil to break earth's sleep at all? —wilfred owen, 'futility'
Ngadcartbot: leonard baskin, ben shahn, wilfred owen.
Klausw_pohlmann: anthem for doomed youth by wilfred owen 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;  >
Alibraryimplies: my friend, you would not tell with such high zest to children ardent for some desperate glory, the old lie: 'dulce et decorum est pro patria mori.' —dulce et decorum est, wilfred owen
Nberlat: 98. wilfred owen
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Poem of the day

Emily Dickinson Poem
What If I Say I Shall Not Wait!
 by Emily Dickinson

277

What if I say I shall not wait!
What if I burst the fleshly Gate—
And pass escaped—to thee!

What if I file this Mortal—off—
See where it hurt me—That's enough—
...

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