First World War Poetry Digital Archive

The Kind Ghosts

THE KIND GHOSTS by WILFRED OWEN She sleeps on soft, last breaths; but no ghost looms Out of the stillness of her palace wall, Her wall of boys on boys and dooms on dooms. She dreams of golden gardens and sweet glooms, Not marvelling why her roses never fall Nor what red mouths were torn to make their blooms. The shades keep down which well might roam her hall. Quiet their blood lies in her crimson rooms And she is not afraid of their footfall. They move not from her tapestries, their pall, Nor pace her terraces, their hecatombs, Lest aught she be disturbed, or grieved at all.


“The Kind Ghosts,” by Owen, Wilfred (1893-1918). 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. via First World War Poetry Digital Archive, accessed March 27, 2023,

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