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Futility

Wilfred Edward Salter Owen 1893 – 1918

Move him into the sun--
Gently its touch awoke him once,
At home, whispering of fields unsown.
Always it woke him, even in France,
Until this morning and this snow.
If anything might rouse him now
The kind old sun will know.

Think how it wakes the seeds--
Woke, once, the clays of a cold star.
Are limbs so dear-achieved, are sides
Full-nerved,--still warm,--too hard to stir?
Was it for this the clay grew tall?
--O what made fatuous sunbeams toil
To break earth's sleep at all?
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Submitted on August 03, 2020

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Quick analysis:

Scheme AXAXBXB XXXXCXC
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 469
Words 90
Stanzas 2
Stanza Lengths 7, 7
Full analysis for Futility »

Wilfred Edward Salter Owen

Wilfred Edward Salter Owen, (18 March 1893 – 4 November 1918) was an English poet and soldier. He was one of the leading poets of the First World War. more…

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    "Futility" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2023. Web. 2 Apr. 2023. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/56946/futility>.

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