Top 100 Poems About: WAR
Top 100 Poems on / about
- carpe diem
1.Dulce Et Decorum Est
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned out backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge. read more »Wilfred Owen
2.In Flanders Field
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly read more »John McCrae
3.Charge Of The Light Brigade
HALF a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred. read more »Alfred Lord Tennyson
Under the level winter sky
I saw a thousand Christs go by.
They sang an idle song and free
As they went up to calvary. read more »Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
They throw in Drummer Hodge, to rest
Uncoffined -- just as found:
His landmark is a kopje-crest
That breaks the veldt around: read more »Thomas Hardy
6.For The Fallen
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea. read more »Robert Laurence Binyon
7.Christ And The Soldier
The straggled soldier halted — stared at Him — Then clumsily dumped down upon his knees, Gasping
'O blessed crucifix, I'm beat !' read more »Siegfried Sassoon
It seemed that out of the battle I escaped
Down some profound dull tunnel, long since scooped
Through granites which Titanic wars had groined.
Yet also there encumbered sleepers groaned, read more »Wilfred Owen
9.And Death Shall Have No Dominion
And death shall have no dominion.
Dead man naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone, read more »Dylan Thomas
10.Aristocrats: 'I Think I Am Becoming A God'
The noble horse with courage in his eye,
clean in the bone, looks up at a shellburst:
away fly the images of the shires
but he puts the pipe back in his mouth. read more »Keith Douglas
11.Requiem For The Croppies
The pockets of our greatcoats full of barley...
No kitchens on the run, no striking camp...
We moved quick and sudden in our own country.
The priest lay behind ditches with the tramp. read more »Seamus Heaney
12.My Boy Jack?
'Have you news of my boy Jack? '
Not this tide.
'When d'you think that he'll come back? ' read more »Rudyard Kipling