Happiness

Wilfred OwenWilfred Owen

1 min read · 12.4K reads

Ever again to breathe pure happiness,
So happy that we gave away our toy?
We smiled at nothings, needing no caress?
Have we not laughed too often since with Joy?
Have we not stolen too strange and sorrowful wrongs
For her hands' pardoning? The sun may cleanse,
And time, and starlight. Life will sing great songs,
And gods will show us pleasures more than men's.Yet heaven looks smaller than the old doll's-home,
No nestling place is left in bluebell bloom,
And the wide arms of trees have lost their scope.
The former happiness is unreturning:
Boys' griefs are not so grievous as our yearning,
Boys have no sadness sadder than our hope.
Wilfred Owen
About the poet

Wilfred Owen

1893 – 1918/EnglishWilfred Owen has become best known for his angry poetry on the supposed nobility and glory of war. But while he was compassionate to those around him, he was not self-pitying and earned the Military Cross for his bravery.

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