david shaw-parker - wilfred owen - greater love lyrics
red lips are not so red
as the stained stones kissed by the english dead
kindness of wooed and wooer
seems shame to their love pure
o love, your eyes lose lure
when i behold eyes blinded in my stead!
your slender attitude
trembles not exquisite like limbs knife+skewed
rolling and rolling there
where god seems not to carе;
till the fierce lovе they bear
cramps them in death’s extreme decrepitude
your voice sings not so soft,—
though even as wind murmuring through raftered loft,—
your dear voice is not dear
gentle, and evening clear
as theirs whom none now hear
now earth has stopped their piteous mouths that coughed
heart, you were never hot
nor large, nor full like hearts made great with shot;
and though your hand be pale
paler are all which trail
your cross through flame and hail:
weep, you may weep, for you may touch them not
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