christopher hassall - arms & the boy by wilfred owen lyrics
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let the boy try along this bayonet+blade
how cold steel is, and keen with hunger of blood;
blue with all malice, like a madman’s flash;
and thinly drawn with famishing for flesh
lend him to stroke these blind, blunt bullet+leads
which long to nuzzle in the hearts of lads
or give him cartridges of fine zinc t++th
sharp with the sharpness of grief and death
for his t++th seem for laughing round an apple
there lurk no claws behind his fingers supple;
and god will grow no talons at his heels
nor antlers through the thickness of his curls
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