Anthem for Doomed Youth by Archibald MacLeish
Back to doom and gloom…
Anthem for Doomed Youth
By Archibald MacLeish
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 good-byes.
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.
This poem I believe was written by Wilfred Owen whilst at Craiglockhart Hospital during September of 1917.
He did write:
The Young Dead Soldiers Do Not Speak
“The young dead soldiers do not speak.
Nevertheless, they are heard in the still houses:
who has not heard them?
They have a silence that speaks for them at night
and when the clock counts.
They say: We were young. We have died.
Remember us.
They say: We have done what we could
but until it is finished it is not done.
They say: We have given our lives but until it is finished
no one can know what our lives gave.
They say: Our deaths are not ours: they are yours,
they will mean what you make them.
They say: Whether our lives and our deaths were for
peace and a new hope or for nothing we cannot say,
it is you who must say this.
We leave you our deaths. Give them their meaning.
We were young, they say. We have died; remember us.”
also another called: Two Poems From The War.
I am enjoying reading the poems you have here on your website.
Regards,
Yvonne
Hi Yvonne,
Thanks so much for sharing. I’ve posted a few by Owen, but not that one. I’m glad you’re enjoying the site.