Saturday Poem: ‘A New Heaven’ by Wilfred Owen

Seeing we never found gay fairyland
(Though still we crouched by bluebells moon by moon)
And missed the tide of Lethe; yet are soon
For that new bridge that leaves old Styx half-spanned;
Nor ever unto Mecca caravanned;
Nor bugled Asgard, skilled in magic rune;
Nor yearned for far Nirvana, the sweet swoon,
And from high Paradise are cursed and banned;

-Let’s die home, ferry across the Channel! Thus
Shall we live gods there. Death shall be no sev’rance.
Weary cathedrals light new shrines for us.
To us, rough knees of boys shall ache with rev’rence.
Are not girls’ breasts a clear, strong Acropole?
-There our oun mothers’ tears shall heal us whole

2 thoughts on “Saturday Poem: ‘A New Heaven’ by Wilfred Owen

  1. This is beautiful. A wonderful poem. I was just reading this poem by SS. And now I think I will go and reread Regeneration.

    In the grey summer garden I shall find you
    With day-break and the morning hills behind you.
    There will be rain-wet roses; stir of wings;
    And down the wood a thrush that wakes and sings.
    Not from the past you’ll come, but from that deep
    Where beauty murmurs to the soul asleep:
    And I shall know the sense of life re-born
    From dreams into the mystery of morn
    Where gloom and brightness meet. And standing there
    Till that calm song is done, at last we’ll share
    The league-spread, quiring symphonies that are
    Joy in the world, and peace, and dawn’s one star.

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