Having, with bold Horatius, stamped her feet
And waved a final swashing arabesque
O'er the brave days of old, she ceased to bleat,
Slapped her Macaulay back upon the desk,
Resuned her calm gaze and her lofty seat.
There, while she heard the classic lines repeat,
Once more the teacher's face clenched stern;
For through the window, looking on the street,
Three soldiers hailed her. She made no return.
One was called 'Orace whom she would not greet.
Wilfred Owen's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Schoolmistress by Wilfred Owen )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
Did you read them?
- Canticle of Hope, Robert Charles Howard
- If I were me.. (Open IIT Creative Writing), Abhinit Chute (abz)
- the peace of a bee, Noah Body
- SILKEN GLOVES, Philo Yan
- A word in your ear, Ponniah Ganeshan
- Crematorium, umaprosad das
- Stupid Illusion, Zillur Rahman Shuvro
- Por Ti Soñaré, Prophmatt . . .
- The color of love, Zillur Rahman Shuvro
- Nightmare, Zillur Rahman Shuvro