In writing an Introduction such as this it is good to be brief.
The poems printed in this book need no preliminary commendations
from me or anyone else. The author has left us his own fragmentary
but impressive Foreword; this, and his Poems, can speak for him,
backed by the authority of his experience as an infantry soldier,
and sustained by nobility and originality of style. All that was strongest
in Wilfred Owen survives in his poems; any superficial impressions
of his personality, any records of his conversation, behaviour, or appearance,
would be irrelevant and unseemly. The curiosity which demands such morsels
would be incapable of appreciating the richness of his work.

The discussion of his experiments in assonance and dissonance
(of which `Strange Meeting' is the finest example) may be left
to the professional critics of verse, the majority of whom
will be more preoccupied with such technical details than with
the profound humanity of the self-revelation manifested in
such magnificent lines as those at the end of his `Apologia pro Poemate Meo',
and in that other poem which he named `Greater Love'.

The importance of his contribution to the literature of the War
cannot be decided by those who, like myself, both admired him as a poet
and valued him as a friend. His conclusions about War
are so entirely in accordance with my own that I cannot attempt
to judge his work with any critical detachment. I can only affirm
that he was a man of absolute integrity of mind. He never wrote his poems
(as so many war-poets did) to make the effect of a personal gesture.
He pitied others; he did not pity himself. In the last year of his life