{"id":128,"date":"2010-01-28T01:03:07","date_gmt":"2010-01-28T01:03:07","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/?p=128"},"modified":"2017-07-12T01:28:39","modified_gmt":"2017-07-12T01:28:39","slug":"dulce-et-decorum-est-wilfred-owen","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/dulce-et-decorum-est-wilfred-owen\/","title":{"rendered":"Dulce Et Decorum Est&#8211;Wilfred Owen"},"content":{"rendered":"<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-content\/uploads\/2010\/01\/Wilfred_Owen_2.png\"><img decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter size-medium wp-image-129 lazyload\" title=\"Wilfred_Owen_2\" data-src=\"http:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-content\/uploads\/2010\/01\/Wilfred_Owen_2-256x299.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"256\" height=\"299\" data-srcset=\"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-content\/uploads\/2010\/01\/Wilfred_Owen_2-256x299.png 256w, https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-content\/uploads\/2010\/01\/Wilfred_Owen_2.png 481w\" data-sizes=\"(max-width: 256px) 100vw, 256px\" src=\"data:image\/svg+xml;base64,PHN2ZyB3aWR0aD0iMSIgaGVpZ2h0PSIxIiB4bWxucz0iaHR0cDovL3d3dy53My5vcmcvMjAwMC9zdmciPjwvc3ZnPg==\" style=\"--smush-placeholder-width: 256px; --smush-placeholder-aspect-ratio: 256\/299;\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,<br \/>\nKnock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,<br \/>\nTill on the haunting flares we turned our backs<br \/>\nAnd towards our distant rest began to trudge.<br \/>\nMen marched asleep. Many had lost their boots<br \/>\nBut limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;<br \/>\nDrunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots<br \/>\nOf disappointed shells that dropped behind.<\/p>\n<p>GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!&#8211; An ecstasy of fumbling,<br \/>\nFitting the clumsy helmets just in time;<br \/>\nBut someone still was yelling out and stumbling<br \/>\nAnd floundering like a man in fire or lime.&#8211;<br \/>\nDim, through the misty panes and thick green light<br \/>\nAs under a green sea, I saw him drowning.<\/p>\n<p>In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,<br \/>\nHe plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.<\/p>\n<p>If in some smothering dreams you too could pace<br \/>\nBehind the wagon that we flung him in,<br \/>\nAnd watch the white eyes writhing in his face,<br \/>\nHis hanging face, like a devil&#8217;s sick of sin;<br \/>\nIf you could hear, at every jolt, the blood<br \/>\nCome gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,<br \/>\nObscene as cancer, bitter as the cud<br \/>\nOf vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,&#8211;<br \/>\nMy friend, you would not tell with such high zest<br \/>\nTo children ardent for some desperate glory,<br \/>\nThe old Lie: Dulce et decorum est<br \/>\nPro patria mori.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Wilfred Owen was born at Oswestry on 18th March 1893<\/p>\n<p>A month before his death he wrote to his mother: &#8220;My nerves are in perfect order. I came out again in order to help these boys; directly, by leading them as well as an officer can; indirectly, by watching their sufferings that I may speak of them as well as a pleader can.&#8221; Let his own words be his epitaph:?<\/p>\n<p>              &#8220;Courage was mine, and I had mystery;<br \/>\n               Wisdom was mine, and I had mastery.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>                                           ~Siegfried Sassoon<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[4,426],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-128","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-1800s","category-war-poems"],"aioseo_notices":[],"amp_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/128","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=128"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/128\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=128"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=128"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=128"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}