Maxioms by Wilfred Owen
Now rather thank I God there is no riskOf gravers scoring it with florid screed.Let my inscription be this soldier's read more
Now rather thank I God there is no riskOf gravers scoring it with florid screed.Let my inscription be this soldier's disc.Wear it, sweet friend. Inscribe no date nor deed.But may thy heart-beat kiss it, night and day,Until the name grow blurred and fade away.
Shall Life renew these bodies? Of a truthAll death will he annul, all tears assuage?Or fill these void veins full read more
Shall Life renew these bodies? Of a truthAll death will he annul, all tears assuage?Or fill these void veins full again with youthAnd wash with an immortal water age?
Was it for this the clay grew tall?
Was it for this the clay grew tall?
