Anthem for Doomed Youth

Lyrics
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 now 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 goodbyes Thе pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall; Their flowеrs the tenderness of patient minds And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds
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Credits
- Writers
- Wilfred Owen