Squire nagged and bullied till I went to fight,
(Under Lord Derby’s Scheme). I died in hell—
(They called it Passchendaele). My wound was slight,
And I was hobbling back; and then a shell
Burst slick upon the duck-boards: so I fell
Into the bottomless mud, and lost the light.
At sermon-time, while Squire is in his pew,
He gives my gilded name a thoughtful stare:
For, though low down upon the list, I’m there;
‘In proud and glorious memory’ ... that’s my due.
Two bleeding years I fought in France, for Squire:
I suffered anguish that he’s never guessed.
Once I came home on leave: and then went west...
What greater glory could a man desire?
Siegfried Sassoon's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Memorial Tablet by Siegfried Sassoon )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Rainer Maria Rilke
(4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- A Dream Within A Dream, Edgar Allan Poe
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- Where The Mind Is Without Fear, Rabindranath Tagore
- If, Rudyard Kipling
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