The War Poems of Siegfried Sassoon

“Suicide in the trenches:I knew a simple soldier boyWho grinned at life in empty joy,Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,And whistled early with the lark.In winter trenches, cowed and glumWith crumps and lice and lack of rum,He put a bullet through his brain.No one spoke of him again. * * * * *You smug-faced crowds with kindling eyeWho cheer when soldier lads march by,Sneak home and pray you'll never knowThe hell where youth and laughter go.””

— Siegfried Sassoon

“Why do you lie with your legs ungainly huddled,And one arm bent across your sullen coldExhausted face? It hurts my heart to watch you,Deep-shadow'd from the candle's guttering gold;And you wonder why I shake you by the shoulder;Drowsy, you mumble and sigh and turn your head....””

— Siegfried Sassoon

“Does it matter?--losing your legs?...For people will always be kind,And you need not show that you mindWhen the others come in after footballTo gobble their muffins and eggs.Does it matter?--losing your sight?...There's such splendid work for the blind;And people will always be kind,As you sit on the terrace rememberingAnd turning your face to the light.Do they matter?--those dreams from the pit?...You can drink and forget and be glad,And people won't say that you're mad;For they'll know that you've fought for your country,And no one will worry a bit.””

— Siegfried Sassoon

“I am banished from the patient men who fight.They smote my heart to pity, built my pride.Shoulder to aching shoulder, side by side,They trudged away from life's broad wealds of light.Their wrongs were mine; and ever in my sightThey went arrayed in honour. But they died,--Not one by one: and mutinous I criedTo those who sent them out into the night.The darkness tells how vainly I have strivenTo free them from the pit where they must dwellIn outcast gloom convulsed and jagged and rivenBy grappling guns. Love drove me to rebel.Love drives me back to grope with them through hell;And in their tortured eyes I stand forgiven.””

— Siegfried Sassoon

“Dark clouds are smouldering into red While down the craters morning burns.The dying soldier shifts his head To watch the glory that returns:He lifts his fingers toward the skies Where holy brightness breaks in flame;Radiance reflected in his eyes, And on his lips a whispered name.””

— Siegfried Sassoon

“Before the Battle:Music of whispering treesHushed by the broad-winged breezeWhere shaken water gleams;And evening radiance fallingWith reedy bird-notes calling.O bear me safe through dark, you low-voiced streams.I have no need to prayThat fear may pass away;I scorn the growl and rumble of the fightThat summons me from coolSilence of marsh and pool,And yellow lilies islanded in light.O river of stars and shadows, lead me through the night.””

— Siegfried Sassoon

“O, but EveryoneWas a bird; and the song was wordless; the singing will never be done.””

— Siegfried Sassoon

“Phantoms of thought and memory thinned and fled.””

— Siegfried Sassoon

“Shaken from sleep, and numbed and scarce awake,Out in the trench with three hours' watch to take,I blunder through the splashing mirk; and thenHear the gruff muttering voices of the menCrouching in cabins candle-chinked with light.Hark! There's the big bombardment on our rightRumbling and bumping; and the dark's a glareOf flickering horror in the sectors whereWe raid the Boche; men waiting, stiff and chilled,Or crawling on their bellies through the wire."What? Stretcher-bearers wanted? Some one killed?"Five minutes ago I heard a sniper fire:Why did he do it?... Starlight overhead--Blank stars. I'm wide-awake; and some chap's dead.””

— Siegfried Sassoon