Dulce Et Decorum Est - Wilfred Owen.

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,

Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,

Till on the haunting flares we turned out backs,

And towards our distant rest began to trudge.

Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,

But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind;

Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots

Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! - An ecstasy of fumbling

Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,

But someone still was yelling out and stumbling

And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime.-

Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,

As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams before my helpless sight

He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace

Behind the wagon that we flung him in,

And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,

His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin,

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood

Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs

Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud

Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,-

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest

To children ardent for some desperate glory,

The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est

Pro patria mori.

Adeste Fideles.

Adeste fideles laeti triumphantes,

Venite, venite in Bethlehem.

Natum videte Regem angelorum.

Venite adoremus

Dominum.

Deum de Deo, lumen de lumine

Gestant puellae viscera.

Deum verum, genitum non factum.

Venite adoremus

Dominum.

Cantet nunc 'Io', chorus angelorum;

Cantet nunc aula caelestium,

Gloria! Soli Deo Gloria!

Venite adoremus

Dominum.

Ergo qui natus die hodierna.

Jesu, tibi sit gloria,

Patris aeterni Verbum caro factum.

Venite adoremus

Dominum