Siegfried Sassoon

(1886 - 1967 / Kent / England)

Siegfried Sassoon Poems

1. Christ And The Soldier 11/25/2014
2. Sporting Acquaintances 3/31/2010
3. The Road 3/31/2010
4. Ex-Service 3/31/2010
5. The Rear-Guard 3/31/2010
6. The Portrait 3/31/2010
7. In An Underground Dressing Station 3/31/2010
8. The Triumph 3/31/2010
9. Middle-Ages 3/31/2010
10. The Redeemer 3/31/2010
11. Before Day 3/31/2010
12. The Road To Ruin 3/31/2010
13. Solar Eclipse 3/31/2010
14. Because We Are Going 3/31/2010
15. To Leonide Massine In ‘cleopatra’ 1/3/2003
16. Sassoon's Public Statement Of Defiance 3/31/2010
17. The Goldsmith 1/3/2003
18. Microcosmos 3/31/2010
19. What The Captain Said At The Point-To-Point 1/3/2003
20. The Hero 3/31/2010
21. The Working Party 1/3/2003
22. The Hawthorn Tree 1/3/2003
23. Goblin Revel 1/3/2003
24. Today 1/3/2003
25. Joy-Bells 1/3/2003
26. Villon 1/3/2003
27. The Heritage 1/3/2003
28. South Wind 1/3/2003
29. Fancy Dress 1/3/2003
30. Storm And Sunlight 1/3/2003
31. Prelude: The Troops 3/31/2010
32. The Investiture 1/3/2003
33. Thrushes 1/3/2003
34. The Redeemer 1/3/2003
35. Editorial Impressions 1/3/2003
36. Invocation 1/3/2003
37. Wonderment 1/3/2003
38. Twelve Months After 1/3/2003
39. Stand-To: Good Friday Morning 1/3/2003
40. Morning-Land 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Siegfried Sassoon

Suicide In The Trenches

I knew a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.

In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.

You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you'll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.

Read the full of Suicide In The Trenches

I Stood With The Dead

I Stood with the Dead, so forsaken and still:
When dawn was grey I stood with the Dead.
And my slow heart said, 'You must kill, you must kill:
'Soldier, soldier, morning is red'.

On the shapes of the slain in their crumpled disgrace
I stared for a while through the thin cold rain...
'O lad that I loved, there is rain on your face,
'And your eyes are blurred and sick like the plain.'

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