Memorial Tablet Poem by Siegfried Sassoon

Memorial Tablet

Rating: 2.7


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?

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Vincent 07 December 2021

Takes me back to English Lit GCE in 1968

0 0 Reply
hameeda 19 November 2017

this is a very heartfelt poem

0 3 Reply
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