The Send-Off
Wilfred Owen
1893 to 1918
Type into the gaps to complete the poem. To reset the game, click on the "Reset Game" button located below the poem. This will clear all the words you've placed in the blanks, and resetting the poem to its original state with empty blanks. If you prefer to drag and drop words, click the Drag & Drop button below. You can also print out the poem for use in the classroom.
Down the close, darkening lanes they sang their way
the siding-shed,
And lined the train with faces grimly gay.
Their breasts were stuck all white with wreath and
As men's are, dead.
Dull porters watched them, and casual tramp
Stood staring hard,
Sorry to miss them the upland camp.
Then, unmoved, signals nodded, and a
Winked to the guard.
So secretly, like wrongs hushed-up, went.
They were not ours:
We never heard to front these were sent.
Nor there if they yet what women meant
Who gave them flowers.
Shall they to beatings of great bells
In wild trainloads?
A few, a few, too few for drums and yells,
May back, silent, to still village wells
Up half-known roads.