Poems of the WWI
“In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.” “Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots but limped on, blood-shod. All went lame and blind.” Wilfred Owen wrote this poem is an extremely graphic manner, when he describes the faith of his comrades with words as: “If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs” and “But someone was still yelling out and stumbling and flound’ring like a man in fire or lime”.
I think this image really struck people as it creates a graphical image in your mind, people had so far heard heroic tales on how their men had gone to war and protect them, and how they suffered a heroic death. Wilfred Owen explained their faith in details all but heroic, they died without boots, alone, in the cold, and some were left on the battlefield to rot without even a proper burial.
The Soldier by Rupert Brooke
“A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.”
”And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less”
I wouldn’t call Rupert Brooke arrogant I would rather call him a patriot who is proud of his dear home England. He was a man who wanted to preserve England as he experienced it growing up, he wanted other younger generation to come to have what he had growing up. You can see it the text how much he loved his England “A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.” Explaining in detail what they could be loosing.
The poet died even before the war got to its worst, there had never been a war similar to this before and this technology used here had never been used in warfare ever before. Before WWI war was looked as a chance to be a hero, you could be nobody when you joined, but ended up a hero when you returned. He encouraged people to do what was right, to protect their home...