Storm by Wilfred Owen - A Poem from AllPoetry


 * His face was charged with beauty as a cloud
 * With glimmering lightning. When it shadowed me
 * I shook, and was uneasy as a tree
 * That draws the brilliant danger, tremulous, bowed.


 * So must I tempt that face to loose its lightning.
 * Great gods, whose beauty is death, will laugh above,
 * Who made his beauty lovelier than love.
 * I shall be bright with their unearthly brightening.


 * And happier were it if my sap consume;
 * Glorious will shine the opening of my heart;
 * The land shall freshen that was under gloom;
 * What matter if all men cry aloud and start,
 * And women hide bleak faces in their shawl,
 * At those hilarious thunders of my fall?