I Saw His Round Mouth's Crimson

By Wilfred Owen

[I saw his round mouth's crimson deepen as it fell],

Like a Sun, in his last deep hour;

Watched the magnificent recession of farewell,

Clouding, half gleam, half glower,

And a last splendour burn the heavens of his cheek.

And in his eyes

The cold stars lighting, very old and bleak,

In different skies.