Anthem For Doomed Youth

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 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.

      The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;

  Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,

  And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

Shown above is a copy of Owen's first draft of this poem along with it's original amendments by both Owen and his good friend and fellow poet 'Siegfried Sassoon'.

Written in clearer form below

Anthem for Dead Youth.

passing

What minute bells for those who die so fast?

solemn the

Only the monstrous anger of our guns

blind insolence iron

Let the majestic insults of their iron mouths

requiem

Be as the priest words of their burials

Learn organs for the old requiem

Of choristers and holy music, none;

And the hiss lonely

the long drawn wail of high, far sailing shells

to light

What candles may we hold for those lost? souls?

Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes

shine the tapers the holy tapers candles

Shall / many candles shine; and love will light them

holy flames: to

And woman's wide-spread ed arms shall be their wreaths

And pallor girls' cheeks shall be their palls.

mortal

Their flowers the tenderness of all men's minds

comrades

rough men's

each slow

And every Dusk a drawing-down of blinds