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Wilfred Owen's Poetry, by popularity

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  • It lieth low near merry England's heart
    Like a long-buried sin; and Englishmen
    118 lines
  • So the church Christ was hit and buried
    Under its rubbish and its rubble.
    8 lines
  •       This book is not about heroes. English Poetry is not yet fit to speak
              of the
    17 lines
  • In twos and threes, they have not far to roam,
    Crowds that thread eastward, gay of eyes;
    13 lines
  • Not this week nor this month dare I lie down
    In languour under lime trees or smooth smile.
    9 lines
  • The roads also have their wistful rest,
    When the weathercocks perch still and roost,
    20 lines
  • I am the ghost of Shadwell Stair.
    Along the wharves by the water-house,
    16 lines
  • With B.E.F. Jun 10. Dear Wife,
    (Oh blast this pencil. 'Ere, Bill, lend's a knife.)
    22 lines
  • My shy hand shades a hermitage apart, -
    O large enough for thee, and thy brief hours.
    14 lines
  • So neck to stubborn neck, and obstinate knee to knee,
    Wrestled those two; and peerless Heracles
    13 lines
  • A dismal fog-hoarse siren howls at dawn.
    I watch the man it calls for, pushed and drawn
    27 lines
  • A vague pearl, a wan pearl
    You showed me once; I peered through far-gone winters
    26 lines
  • Hush, thrush! Hush, missen-thrush, I listen…
    I heard the flush of footsteps through the loose leaves,
    29 lines
  • He dropped, - more sullenly than wearily,
    Lay stupid like a cod, heavy like meat,
    23 lines, 2 comments
  • Though unseen Poets, many and many a time,
    Have answered me as if they knew my woe,
    14 lines, 4 comments
  • I have been urged by earnest violins
    And drunk their mellow sorrows to the slake
    14 lines, 1 comment
  • Schoolmistress
    Having, with bold Horatius, stamped her feet
    11 lines
  • Red lips are not so red
      As the stained stones kissed by the English dead.
    26 lines
  • His face was charged with beauty as a cloud
    With glimmering lightning. When it shadowed me
    14 lines
  • The beautiful, the fair, the elegant,
    Is that which pleases us, says Kant,
    26 lines
  • As bronze may be much beautified
    By lying in the dark damp soil,
    13 lines, 1 comment
  • O World of many worlds, O life of lives,
          What centre hast thou? Where am I?
    56 lines
  • So neck to neck and obstinate knee to knee
    Wrestled those two; and peerless Heracles
    88 lines
  • His fingers wake, and flutter; up the bed.
    His eyes come open with a pull of will,
    16 lines
  • Suddenly night crushed out the day and hurled
    Her remnants over cloud-peaks, thunder-walled.
    14 lines, 2 comments
  • She sleeps on soft, last breaths; but no ghost looms
    Out of the stillness of her palace wall,
    12 lines, 1 comment
  • I mind as 'ow the night afore that show
    Us five got talking, -- we was in the know,
    18 lines, 1 comment
  • [I saw his round mouth's crimson deepen as it fell],
    Like a Sun, in his last deep hour;
    7 lines
  • Bugles sang, saddening the evening air,
    And bugles answered, sorrowful to hear.
    16 lines
  • The browns, the olives, and the yellows died,
    And were swept up to heaven; where they glowed
    10 lines
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