[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.
More verses by Wilfred Owen
- Apologia Pro Poemate Meo
- The Next War
- Cramped In That Funnelled Hole
- Arms And The Boy
- Elegy In April And September