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I Know the Music

All sounds have been as music to my listening:
Pacific lamentations of slow bells,
The crunch of boots on blue snow rosy—glistening,
Shuffle of autumn leaves; and all farewells:
 
Bugles that sadden all the evening air,
And country bells clamouring their last appeals
Before [the] music of the evening prayer;
Bridges, sonorous under carriage wheels.
 
Gurgle of sluicing surge through hollow rocks,
The gluttonous lapping of the waves on weeds,
Whisper of grass; the myriad—tinkling flocks,
The warbling drawl of flutes and shepherds’ reeds.
 
The orchestral noises of October nights
Blowing ( ) symphonetic storms
Of startled clarions ( )
Drums, rumbling and rolling thunderous and ( ).
 
Thrilling of throstles in the keen blue dawn,
Bees fumbling and fuming over sainfoin—fields.

Other works by Wilfred Owen ...



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