Read The Penguin Book of First World War Poetry Online
Authors: Various Contributors
In Flanders Fields | 155 |
In Flanders fields the poppies blow | 155 |
In Memoriam Private D. Sutherland killed in | |
     Action in the German Trench, May 16, 1916, | |
     and the Others who Died | 95 |
In sodden trenches I have heard men speak, | 249 |
In the bleak twilight, when the roads are hoar | 239 |
In the last letter that I had from France | 165 |
In the Trenches | 51 |
In Training | 39 |
Indifferent, flippant, earnest, but all bored, | 27 |
Into Battle | 101 |
It Is Near Toussaints | 229 |
It is near Toussaints, the living and dead will say: | 229 |
It is plain now what you are. Your head has dropped | 149 |
It seemed that it were well to kiss first earth | 168 |
It seemed that out of the battle I escaped | 159 |
It was after the Somme, our line was quieter, | 64 |
It's a Queer Time | 127 |
It's hard to know if you're alive or dead | 127 |
Kiss, The | |
Ladies and gentlemen, this is High Wood, | |
âLads, you're wanted, go and help,' | 22 |
Lamplight | 261 |
Last Post, The | 38 |
Let me forget â Let me forget, | 269 |
Let the boy try along this bayonet-blade | 32 |
Let the foul Scene proceed: | 6 |
Let us remember Spring will come again | 204 |
Lights Out | 103 |
Louse Hunting | 68 |
Marching Men | |
Marionettes, The | 6 |
May, 1915 | 204 |
Memorial Tablet | 244 |
Memory, A | 145 |
Men Fade Like Rocks | 256 |
â Men Who March Away ' | 41 |
Mental Cases | 218 |
Midnight Skaters, The | 270 |
Moonrise over Battlefield | 61 |
Mother, The | 109 |
Move him into the sun â | 54 |
My Boy Jack | 164 |
My Company | 83 |
My son was killed while laughing at some jest. I | |
     would I knew | 194 |
My soul, dread not the pestilence that hags | 224 |
Nameless Men | |
Navigators, The | 132 |
Next War, The | 272 |
Night shatters in mid-heaven: the bark of guns, | 185 |
1914: Peace | 11 |
1914: Safety | 29 |
1914: The Dead | 156 |
1914: The Dead | 157 |
1914: The Soldier | 108 |
Not that we are weary, | 51 |
Not to Keep | 178 |
Not yet will those measureless fields be green again | 237 |
Now, God be thanked Who has matched us with His hour, | 11 |
Now light the candles; one; two; there's a moth; | 214 |
â Now that you too must shortly go the way ' | 30 |
Now that you too must shortly go the way | 30 |
Now we can say of those who died unsung, | 227 |
Nudes, stark and glistening, | 68 |
O how comely it was and how reviving | |
O living pictures of the dead, | 192 |
On Passing the New Menin Gate | 247 |
On Receiving the First News of the War | 5 |
On Somme | 125 |
â On the idle hill of summer ' | 1 |
On the idle hill of summer | 1 |
One got peace of heart at last, the dark march over, | 66 |
Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knife us⦠| 55 |
â Out of the Mouths of Babes â' | 243 |
Out of the smoke of men's wrath, | 129 |
Over the flat slope of St. Eloi | 58 |
Paris, November 11, 1918 | |
Pavement, The | 176 |
Peace ( 1914: Peace ) | 11 |
Peace Celebration | 227 |
Picnic | 197 |
Picture-Show | 258 |
Poem: Abbreviated from the Conversation of Mr. T. E. H. | 58 |
Poets are Waiting, The | 17 |
Portrait of a Coward | 206 |
Preparations for Victory | 224 |
Prisoners | 161 |
Private, A | 153 |
Question, The | |
Ragtime | |
Ragtime (Osbert Sitwell) | 183 |
Recalling War | 263 |
Recruiting | 22 |
Red lips are not so red | 93 |
Redeemer, The | 62 |
Remember, on your knees, | 184 |
Report on Experience | 231 |
Repression of War Experience | 214 |
Reserve | 173 |
Retreat ( Youth in Arms III: Retreat ) | 137 |
Returning, We Hear The Larks | 65 |
Rise up, rise up, | 20 |
Rock-like the souls of men | 256 |
Rondeau of a Conscientious Objector | 28 |
Safety | |
Saints have adored the lofty soul of you. | 106 |
Send-off, The | 44 |
Serenade | 64 |
Servitude ( Sonnets 1917: Servitude ) | 36 |
Shell, The | 123 |
Shining pins that dart and click | 189 |
Shrieking its message the flying death | 123 |
Sick Leave | 172 |
Silence, The | 239 |
Silent One, The | 60 |
Since Rose a classic taste possessed, | 212 |
Smile, Smile, Smile | 211 |
Snow is a strange white word; | 5 |
So you were David's father, | 95 |
Socks | 189 |
Soldier ( Youth in Arms II: Soldier ) | 40 |
Soldier, The ( 1914: The Soldier ) | 108 |
Soldier Addresses His Body, The | 114 |
Soldier: Twentieth Century | 24 |
Soliloquy II | 151 |
Sombre the night is: | 65 |
Song of the Dark Ages | 35 |
Sonnets 1917: Servitude | 36 |
Sower, The | 74 |
Spring Offensive | 133 |
Squire nagged and bullied till I went to fight, | 244 |
Strange Hells | 254 |
Strange Meeting | 159 |
Such, such is Death: no triumph: no defeat: | 106 |
Suddenly into the still air burst thudding | 125 |
Superfluous Woman, The | 255 |
Survivor Comes Home, The | 171 |
That is not war â oh it hurts! I am lame. | |
That night your great guns, unawares, | 2 |
The barrack-square, washed clean with rain, | 37 |
The battery grides and jingles, | 116 |
The Bishop tells us: âWhen the boys come back | 205 |
The bugler sent a call of high romance â | 38 |
The darkness crumbles away â | 48 |
The floors are slippery with blood: | 193 |
The Garden called Gethsemane | 130 |
The hop-poles stand in cones, | 270 |
The hours have tumbled their leaden, monotonous sands | 28 |
The House is crammed: tier beyond tier they grin | 181 |
The hush begins. Nothing is heard | 241 |
The lamps glow here and there, then echo down | 183 |
The long war had ended. | 272 |
The men that worked for England | 245 |
The naked earth is warm with Spring, | 101 |
The night falls over London. City and sky | 4 |
The night is still and the air is keen, | 126 |
The night turns slowly round, | 179 |
The plunging limbers over the shattered track | 146 |
The rain is slipping, dripping down the street; | 187 |
The Town has opened to the sun. | 122 |
The wind is cold and heavy | 39 |
There are strange Hells within the minds War made | 254 |
There died a myriad, | 248 |
There is not anything more wonderful | 12 |
There was a time that's gone | 250 |
There was a water dump there, and regimental | 70 |
There was no sound at all, no crying in the village, | 145 |
There's the girl who clips your ticket for the train, | 169 |
â Therefore is the name of it called Babel ' | 76 |
These are the damned circles Dante trod, | 67 |
These hearts were woven of human joys and cares, | 157 |
These, in the day when heaven was falling, | 246 |
â They ' | 205 |
They gave me this name like their nature, | 80 |
They sent him back to her. The letter came | 178 |
This is no case of petty Right or Wrong | 15 |
This is no case of petty right or wrong | 15 |
This ploughman dead in battle slept out of doors | 153 |
Though you desire me I will still feign sleep | 173 |
Through long nursery nights he stood | 216 |
Through the long ward the gramophone | 208 |
Tired with dull grief, grown old before my day, | 259 |