Anthem for Doomed Youth

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 for them; no prayers nor bells, Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,— The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells; And bugles calling for them from sad shires. What candles may be held to speed them all? Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes. The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall; Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds, And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

A funeral rite for men who get none: the guns for bells, the shells for choirs, and for flowers "the tenderness of patient minds."

Source: Wilfred Owen, Poems, ed. Siegfried Sassoon (London: Chatto & Windus, 1920). Text: Project Gutenberg. Public domain in the US.

Public domain in the United States.