Courage was mine, and I had mastery, Wisdom was mine, and I had mystery: To miss the march of this retreating world into vain citadels that are not w… - Wilfred Owen

"O Life, Life, let me breathe, — a dug-out rat! Not worse than ours the existences rats lead — Nosing along at night down some safe vat, They find a shell-proof home before they rot. Dead men may envy living mites in cheese, Or good germs even. Microbes have their joys, And subdivide, and never come to death, Certainly flowers have the easiest time on earth. "I shall be one with nature, herb, and stone." Shelley would tell me. Shelley would be stunned; The dullest Tommy hugs that fancy now. "Pushing up daisies," is their creed, you know. To grain, then, go my fat, to buds my sap, For all the usefulness there is in soap. D'you think the Boche will ever stew man-soup?"

I have perceived much beauty
In the hoarse oaths that kept our courage straight;
Heard music in the silentness of duty;
Found peace where shell-storms spouted reddest spate.

Little I'd ever teach a son, but hitting, Shooting, war, hunting, all the arts of hurting.