AUTUMNAL by WILFRED OWEN
If it be very strange and sorrowful To scent the first night-frost in autumntide; If on the moaning eve when Summer died Men shuddered, awed to hear her burial; And if the dissolution of one rose (Whereof the future holds unnumbered store) Engender human tears,---ah! how much more Sorrows and suffers be whose sense foreknows The weakening and the withering of a love, The dying of a love that had been dear! Who feels upon a hand, but late love-warm, A hardness of indifference, like a glove; And in the dead calm of a voice may hear The menace of a drear and mighty storm.
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|Author||Owen, Wilfred (1893-1918)|
|Copyright||The Estate of Wilfred Owen. The Complete Poems and Fragments of Wilfred Owen edited by Jon Stallworthy first published by Chatto Windus, 1983. Preliminaries, introductory, editorial matter, manuscripts and fragments omitted.|
|First line||If it be very strange and sorrowful|
|Publication source||The Complete Poems and Fragments of Wilfred Owen|
|Publication editor||Stallworthy, Jon|
|Digital repository||The First World War Poetry Digital Archive|