Asleep/Wilfred Owen

Under his helmet, up against his

pack,
After the many days of work and
waking,
Sleep took him by the brow and laid
him back.
And in the happy no-time of his
sleeping,
Death took him by the heart. There
was a quaking
f the aborted life within him
leaping ...
Then chest and sleepy arms once
more fell slack.
And soon the slow, stray blood
came creeping
!rom the intrusi"e lead, like ants on
track.

#hether his deeper sleep lie
shaded by the shaking
f great wings, and the thoughts
that hung the stars,
$igh pillowed on calm pillows of
%od&s making
Abo"e these clouds, these rains,
these sleets of lead,
And these winds& scimitars'
--r whether yet his thin and
sodden head
(onfuses more and more with the
low mould,
$is hair being one with the grey
grass
And finished fields of autumns that
are old ...
#ho knows) #ho hopes) #ho
troubles) *et it pass+
$e sleeps. $e sleeps less
tremulous, less cold
Than we who must awake, and
waking, say Alas+
Futility/ Wilfred Owen
,o"e him into the sun--
%ently its touch awoke him once,
At home, whispering of fields
unsown.
Always it awoke him, e"en in
!rance,
Until this morning and this snow.
-f anything might rouse him now
The kind old sun will know.
Think how it wakes the seeds--
#oke, once, the clays of a cold
star.
Are limbs so dear-achie"ed, are
sides
!ull-ner"ed,--still warm,--too hard to
stir)
#as it for this the clay grew tall)
-- what made fatuous sunbeams
toil
To break earth&s sleep at all)
An Irish Airman Foresees His
Death/Willliam Butler Yeats
- know that - shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds
abo"e.
Those that - fight - do not hate,
Those that - guard - do not lo"e.
,y country is /iltartan (ross,
,y countrymen /iltartan&s poor,
0o likely end could bring them loss
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r lea"e them happier than before.
0or law, nor duty bade me fight,
0or public men, nor cheering
crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Dro"e to this tumult in the clouds'
- balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste
of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
-n balance with this life, this death.
Sonnet 29/William Shakespeare
#hen in disgrace with fortune and
men&s eyes
- all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf hea"en with my
bootless cries,
And look upon myself, and curse
my fate,
#ishing me like to one more rich in
hope,
!eatured like him, like him with
friends possessed,
Desiring this man&s art, and that
man&s scope,
#ith what - most en1oy contented
least'
2et in these thoughts my self
almost despising,
$aply - think on thee, and then my
state,
*ike to the lark at break of day
arising
!rom sullen earth, sings hymns at
hea"en&s gate'
!or thy sweet lo"e remembered
such wealth brings
That then - scorn to change my
state with kings.
Sonnet 73
That time of year thou mayst in me
behold
#hen yellow lea"es, or none, or
few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake
against the cold,
3are ruined choirs, where late the
sweet birds sang.
-n me thou see&st the twilight of
such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west'
#hich by and by black night doth
take away,
Death&s second self, that seals up
all in rest.
-n me thou see&st the glowing of
such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth
lie,
As the death-bed, whereon it must
e4pire,
(onsum&d with that which it was
nourish&d by.
This thou percei"&st, which makes
thy lo"e more strong,
To lo"e that well, which thou must
lea"e ere long.
Sonnet 116
*et me not to the marriage of true
minds
Admit impediments. *o"e is not
lo"e
#hich alters when it alteration
finds,
r bends with the remo"er to
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remo"e.
, no+ it is an e"er-fi4ed mark,
That looks on tempests and is
ne"er shaken'
-t is the star to e"ery wandering
bark,
#hose worth&s unknown, although
his height be taken.
*o"e&s not Time&s fool, though rosy
lips and cheeks
#ithin his bending sickle&s compass
come'
*o"e alters not with his brief hours
and weeks,
3ut bears it out e"en to the edge of
doom.
-f this be error and upon me pro"ed,
- ne"er writ, nor no man e"er lo"ed.
Sonnet 129
The e4pense of spirit in a waste of
shame
-s lust in action. and till action, lust
-s per1ured, murderous, bloody, full
of blame,
Sa"age, e4treme, rude, cruel, not to
trust'
5n1oyed no sooner but despised
straight'
6ast reason hunted' and no sooner
had,
6ast reason hated, as a swallowed
bait,
n purpose laid to make the taker
mad.
,ad in pursuit and in possession
so'
$ad, ha"ing, and in quest to ha"e
e4treme'
3efore, a 1oy proposed' behind a
dream.
All this the world well knows' yet
none knows well
To shun the hea"en that leads men
to this hell.
Sonnet 138
#hen my lo"e swears that she is
made of truth,
- do belie"e her though - know she
lies,
That she might think me some
untutored youth,
Unlearned in the world&s false
subtleties.
Thus "ainly thinking that she thinks
me young,
Although she knows my days are
past the best,
Simply - credit her false-speaking
tongue.
n both sides thus is simple truth
suppressed.
3ut wherefore says she not she is
un1ust)
And wherefore say not - that - am
old)
+ lo"e&s best habit is in seeming
trust,
And age in lo"e, lo"es not to ha"e
years told.
Therefore - lie with her, and she
with me,
And in our faults by lies we flattered
be.
Sonnet 62
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Sin of self-lo"e possesseth all mine
eye
And all my soul, and all my e"ery
part'
And for this sin there is no remedy,
-t is so grounded inward in my
heart.
,ethinks no face so gracious is as
mine,
0o shape so true, no truth of such
account'
And for myself mine own worth do
define,
As - all other in all worths surmount.
3ut when my glass shows me
myself indeed
3eated and chopp&d with tanned
antiquity,
,ine own self-lo"e quite contrary -
read'
Self so self-lo"ing were iniquity.
&Tis thee, myself, that for myself -
praise,
6ainting my age with beauty of thy
days.
Sonnet 1
Shall - compare thee to a summer&s
day)
Thou art more lo"ely and more
temperate.
7ough winds do shake the darling
buds of ,ay,
And summer&s lease hath all too
short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of
hea"en shines,
And often is his gold comple4ion
dimmed,
And e"ery fair from fair sometime
declines,
3y chance, or nature&s changing
course untrimmed.
3ut thy eternal summer shall not
fade,
0or lose possession of that fair
thou ow&st,
0or shall death brag thou wander&st
in his shade,
#hen in eternal lines to time thou
grow&st,
So long as men can breathe, or
eyes can see,
So long li"es this, and this gi"es life
to thee.
Sonnet 2!
A woman&s face with nature&s own
hand painted,
$ast thou, the master mistress of
my passion'
A woman&s gentle heart, but not
acquainted
#ith shifting change, as is false
women&s fashion.
An eye more bright than theirs, less
false in rolling,
%ilding the ob1ect whereupon it
ga8eth'
A man in hue all hues in his
controlling,
#hich steals men&s eyes and
women&s souls ama8eth.
And for a woman wert thou first
created'
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Till 0ature, as she wrought thee,
fell a-doting,
And by addition me of thee
defeated,
3y adding one thing to my purpose
nothing.
3ut since she prick&d thee out for
women&s pleasure,
,ine be thy lo"e and thy lo"e&s use
their treasure.
Sonnet 13!
,y mistress& eyes are nothing like
the sun'
(oral is far more red, than her lips
red.
-f snow be white, why then her
breasts are dun'
-f hairs be wires, black wires grow
on her head.
- ha"e seen roses damasked, red
and white,
3ut no such roses see - in her
cheeks'
And in some perfumes is there
more delight
Than in the breath that from my
mistress reeks.
- lo"e to hear her speak, yet well -
know
That music hath a far more
pleasing sound.
- grant - ne"er saw a goddess go,
,y mistress, when she walks,
treads on the ground.
And yet by hea"en, - think my lo"e
as rare,
As any she belied with false
compare.
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