S. I. W. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEFG HIIHJKKJLMLNOONPQQR STTU SVWXY SSXR VR| I will to the King | A |
| And offer him consolation in his trouble | B |
| For that man there has set his teeth to die | C |
| And being one that hates obedience | D |
| Discipline and orderliness of life | E |
| I cannot mourn him | F |
| W B Yeats | G |
| - | |
| - | |
| Patting goodbye doubtless they told the lad | H |
| He'd always show the Hun a brave man's face | I |
| Father would sooner him dead than in disgrace | I |
| Was proud to see him going aye and glad | H |
| Perhaps his Mother whimpered how she'd fret | J |
| Until he got a nice safe wound to nurse | K |
| Sisters would wish girls too could shoot charge curse | K |
| Brothers would send his favourite cigarette | J |
| Each week month after month they wrote the same | L |
| Thinking him sheltered in some Y M Hut | M |
| Where once an hour a bullet missed its aim | L |
| And misses teased the hunger of his brain | N |
| His eyes grew old with wincing and his hand | O |
| Reckless with ague Courage leaked as sand | O |
| From the best sandbags after years of rain | N |
| But never leave wound fever trench foot shock | P |
| Untrapped the wretch And death seemed still withheld | Q |
| For torture of lying machinally shelled | Q |
| At the pleasure of this world's Powers who'd run amok | R |
| - | |
| He'd seen men shoot their hands on night patrol | S |
| Their people never knew Yet they were vile | T |
| Death sooner than dishonour that's the style | T |
| So Father said | U |
| - | |
| One dawn our wire patrol | S |
| Carried him This time Death had not missed | V |
| We could do nothing but wipe his bleeding cough | W |
| Could it be accident Rifles go off | X |
| Not sniped No Later they found the English ball | Y |
| - | |
| It was the reasoned crisis of his soul | S |
| Against the fires that would not burn him whole | S |
| But kept him for death's perjury and scoff | X |
| And life's half promising and both their riling | R |
| - | |
| With him they buried the muzzle his teeth had kissed | V |
| And truthfully wrote the Mother Tim died smiling | R |
Wilfred Owen
(1)
Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
About S. I. W.
S. I. W. is a poem by Wilfred Owen. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
Write your comment about S. I. W. poem by Wilfred Owen
Best Poems of Wilfred Owen