Siegfried Sassoon

(1886 - 1967 / Kent / England)

Siegfried Sassoon Poems

81. Middle-Ages 1/3/2003
82. Miracles 1/3/2003
83. Morning Express 1/3/2003
84. Morning-Glory 1/3/2003
85. Morning-Land 1/3/2003
86. Night On The Convoy 1/3/2003
87. Night-Piece 1/3/2003
88. Nimrod In September 1/3/2003
89. Noah 1/3/2003
90. October 1/3/2003
91. On Passing The New Menin Gate 3/31/2010
92. Parted 1/3/2003
93. Picture-Show 1/3/2003
94. Prelude To An Unwritten Masterpiece 1/3/2003
95. Prelude: The Troops 3/31/2010
96. Reconciliation 1/3/2003
97. Remorse 1/3/2003
98. Repression Of War Experience 1/3/2003
99. Sassoon's Public Statement Of Defiance 3/31/2010
100. Secret Music 1/3/2003
101. Sick Leave 1/3/2003
102. Slumber-Song 1/3/2003
103. Solar Eclipse 3/31/2010
104. Song-Books Of The War 1/3/2003
105. South Wind 1/3/2003
106. Sporting Acquaintances 3/31/2010
107. Stand-To: Good Friday Morning 1/3/2003
108. Storm And Sunlight 1/3/2003
109. Stretcher Case 1/3/2003
110. Suicide In The Trenches 1/3/2003
111. Survivors 1/3/2003
112. The Choral Union 1/3/2003
113. The Dark House 1/3/2003
114. The Death-Bed 1/3/2003
115. The Dragon And The Undying 1/3/2003
116. The Dream 1/3/2003
117. The Dreamers 1/3/2003
118. The Dug-Out 1/3/2003
119. The Fathers 1/3/2003
120. The General 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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