“October's bellowing anger breakes and cleavesThe bronzed battalions of the stricken woodIn whose lament I hear a voice that grievesFor battle's fruitless harvest, and the feudOf outrage men. Their lives are like the leavesScattered in flocks of ruin, tossed and blownAlong the westering furnace flaring red.O martyred youth and manhood overthrown,The burden of your wrongs is on my head.” MenVoiceYouthBattleRedBurdenRuinsHarvestManhoodOutrageOctoberFlocksLamentFurnacesMartyred Author:Siegfried Sassoon
“EVERYONE suddenly burst out singing; And I was filled with such delight As prisoned birds must find in freedom, Winging wildly across the white Orchards and dark-green fields; on—on—and out of sight. Everyone’s voice was suddenly lifted; And beauty came like the setting sun: My heart was shaken with tears; and horror Drifted away ... O, but Everyone Was a bird; and the song was wordless; the singing will never be done.” HeartDoneSongVoiceDarkWhiteSunFieldsTearsMy HeartHorrorSingingBirdSightGreenFilledDelightSettingSettingsOrchardGreen Fields Author:Siegfried Sassoon
“His wet white face and miserable eyesBrought nurses to him more than groans and sighs:But hoarse and low and rapid rose and fellHis troubled voice: he did the business well.(First verse of Died of Wounds)” FirstsWellsFacesVoiceWhiteLowsDiedRoseWoundsMiserableNurseWetVersesSighRapids Author:Siegfried Sassoon
