Murmuring by miriads in the shimmering trees.
Wakening with wonder in the Pyrenees.
Cheerily chirping in the early day.
Singing of summer, scything thro’ the hay.
Shaking the heavy dews from bloom and frond.
Bursting the surface of the ebony pond.
Of swimmers carving thro’ the sparkling cold.
Gleaming with wetness to the morning gold.
Bordered about with warbling water brooks.
Laughing the love-laugh with me; proud of looks.
Throbbing between the upland and the peak.
Quivering with passion to my pressed cheek.
Of floating flames across the mountain brow.
Of stillness; and a sighing of the bough.
Of leaflets in the gloom; soft petal-showers;
Expanding with the starr’d nocturnal flowers.
This poem is in the public domain.
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Wilfred Owen (1893 – 1918) was a British poet best known for chronicling the atrocities of World War I. He worked briefly as teacher before enlisting in an infantry unit of the British Army. Two years later, he met and befriended fellow poet Siegfried Sassoon in a hospital where they were both recovering from injuries. Wilfred was, by all accounts, a good and obedient soldier, but his letters to his mother confessed his horror at what he was witnessing on the battlefield. Tragically, he was killed in action a week before the war ended; he was only 25 years old.
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