"Exposure" is a poem written by the English poet and soldier Wilfred Owen. Owen wrote "Exposure" in 1918, but it wasn't published until 1920, after Owen's death in World War I. Like most of Owen's poetry, "Exposure" deals with the topic of war. "Exposure" specifically focuses on the sheer monotony of daily life for many soldiers, as well as the harsh conditions they must endure (that is, be "exposed" to) even when not on the battlefield. This suffering is made all the more devastating given the fact that, in the speaker's mind, war seems to accomplish nothing on a larger scale (which is an idea Owen frequently espouses in his work).
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The Full Text of “Exposure”
1Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knive us . . .
2Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent . . .
3Low drooping flares confuse our memory of the salient . . .
4Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, nervous,
5 But nothing happens.
6Watching, we hear the mad gusts tugging on the wire,
7Like twitching agonies of men among its brambles.
8Northward, incessantly, the flickering gunnery rumbles,
9Far off, like a dull rumour of some other war.
10 What are we doing here?
11The poignant misery of dawn begins to grow . . .
12We only know war lasts, rain soaks, and clouds sag stormy.
13Dawn massing in the east her melancholy army
14Attacks once more in ranks on shivering ranks of grey,
15 But nothing happens.
16Sudden successive flights of bullets streak the silence.
17Less deadly than the air that shudders black with snow,
18With sidelong flowing flakes that flock, pause, and renew,
19We watch them wandering up and down the wind's nonchalance,
20 But nothing happens.
21Pale flakes with fingering stealth come feeling for our faces—
22We cringe in holes, back on forgotten dreams, and stare, snow-dazed,
23Deep into grassier ditches. So we drowse, sun-dozed,
24Littered with blossoms trickling where the blackbird fusses.
25 —Is it that we are dying?
26Slowly our ghosts drag home: glimpsing the sunk fires, glozed
27With crusted dark-red jewels; crickets jingle there;
28For hours the innocent mice rejoice: the house is theirs;
29Shutters and doors, all closed: on us the doors are closed,—
30 We turn back to our dying.
31Since we believe not otherwise can kind fires burn;
32Now ever suns smile true on child, or field, or fruit.
33For God's invincible spring our love is made afraid;
34Therefore, not loath, we lie out here; therefore were born,
35 For love of God seems dying.
36Tonight, this frost will fasten on this mud and us,
37Shrivelling many hands, and puckering foreheads crisp.
38The burying-party, picks and shovels in shaking grasp,
39Pause over half-known faces. All their eyes are ice,
40 But nothing happens.
The Full Text of “Exposure”
1Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knive us . . .
2Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent . . .
3Low drooping flares confuse our memory of the salient . . .
4Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, nervous,
5 But nothing happens.
6Watching, we hear the mad gusts tugging on the wire,
7Like twitching agonies of men among its brambles.
8Northward, incessantly, the flickering gunnery rumbles,
9Far off, like a dull rumour of some other war.
10 What are we doing here?
11The poignant misery of dawn begins to grow . . .
12We only know war lasts, rain soaks, and clouds sag stormy.
13Dawn massing in the east her melancholy army
14Attacks once more in ranks on shivering ranks of grey,
15 But nothing happens.
16Sudden successive flights of bullets streak the silence.
17Less deadly than the air that shudders black with snow,
18With sidelong flowing flakes that flock, pause, and renew,
19We watch them wandering up and down the wind's nonchalance,
20 But nothing happens.
21Pale flakes with fingering stealth come feeling for our faces—
22We cringe in holes, back on forgotten dreams, and stare, snow-dazed,
23Deep into grassier ditches. So we drowse, sun-dozed,
24Littered with blossoms trickling where the blackbird fusses.
25 —Is it that we are dying?
26Slowly our ghosts drag home: glimpsing the sunk fires, glozed
27With crusted dark-red jewels; crickets jingle there;
28For hours the innocent mice rejoice: the house is theirs;
29Shutters and doors, all closed: on us the doors are closed,—
30 We turn back to our dying.
31Since we believe not otherwise can kind fires burn;
32Now ever suns smile true on child, or field, or fruit.
33For God's invincible spring our love is made afraid;
34Therefore, not loath, we lie out here; therefore were born,
35 For love of God seems dying.
36Tonight, this frost will fasten on this mud and us,
37Shrivelling many hands, and puckering foreheads crisp.
38The burying-party, picks and shovels in shaking grasp,
39Pause over half-known faces. All their eyes are ice,
40 But nothing happens.
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“Exposure” Summary
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“Exposure” Themes
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The Monotony and Meaninglessness of War
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Man vs. Nature
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Line-by-Line Explanation & Analysis of “Exposure”
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Lines 1-5
Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knive us . . .
Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent . . .
Low drooping flares confuse our memory of the salient . . .
Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, nervous,
But nothing happens. -
Lines 6-7
Watching, we hear the mad gusts tugging on the wire,
Like twitching agonies of men among its brambles. -
Lines 8-10
Northward, incessantly, the flickering gunnery rumbles,
Far off, like a dull rumour of some other war.
What are we doing here? -
Lines 11-15
The poignant misery of dawn begins to grow . . .
We only know war lasts, rain soaks, and clouds sag stormy.
Dawn massing in the east her melancholy army
Attacks once more in ranks on shivering ranks of grey,
But nothing happens. -
Lines 16-17
Sudden successive flights of bullets streak the silence.
Less deadly than the air that shudders black with snow, -
Lines 18-20
With sidelong flowing flakes that flock, pause, and renew,
We watch them wandering up and down the wind's nonchalance,
But nothing happens. -
Lines 21-25
Pale flakes with fingering stealth come feeling for our faces—
We cringe in holes, back on forgotten dreams, and stare, snow-dazed,
Deep into grassier ditches. So we drowse, sun-dozed,
Littered with blossoms trickling where the blackbird fusses.
—Is it that we are dying? -
Lines 26-30
Slowly our ghosts drag home: glimpsing the sunk fires, glozed
With crusted dark-red jewels; crickets jingle there;
For hours the innocent mice rejoice: the house is theirs;
Shutters and doors, all closed: on us the doors are closed,—
We turn back to our dying. -
Lines 31-35
Since we believe not otherwise can kind fires burn;
Now ever suns smile true on child, or field, or fruit.
For God's invincible spring our love is made afraid;
Therefore, not loath, we lie out here; therefore were born,
For love of God seems dying. -
Lines 36-40
Tonight, this frost will fasten on this mud and us,
Shrivelling many hands, and puckering foreheads crisp.
The burying-party, picks and shovels in shaking grasp,
Pause over half-known faces. All their eyes are ice,
But nothing happens.
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“Exposure” Symbols
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Dawn
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“Exposure” Poetic Devices & Figurative Language
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Sibilance
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Alliteration
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Assonance
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Simile
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End-Stopped Line
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Enjambment
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Caesura
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Personification
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Refrain
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Consonance
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“Exposure” Vocabulary
Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.
- Flares
- Salient
- Sentries
- Wire
- Brambles
- Gunnery
- Poignant
- Ranks of grey
- Nonchalance
- Fingering
- Holes
- Sun-dozed
- Glozed
- Invincible
- Loath
- Puckering
- Burying-party
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Form, Meter, & Rhyme Scheme of “Exposure”
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Form
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Meter
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Rhyme Scheme
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“Exposure” Speaker
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“Exposure” Setting
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Literary and Historical Context of “Exposure”
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More “Exposure” Resources
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External Resources
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Siegfried Sassoon's Influence — Read a history of Owen's relationship with Siegfried Sassoon, who influenced the development of Owen's poetry while they were both patients at Craiglockhart, a military hospital in Edinburgh.
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Listen to "Exposure" Out Loud — A reading of the entire poem by actor Rupert Mason.
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How World War I Changed Literature — A timeline of how literature changed during and as a result of World War I.
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Biography of Wilfred Owen — Read a full biography of Wilfred Owen's life from the Poetry Foundation.
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A Soldier's Experience — Read what life was like on the front lines for a soldier in World War I.
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LitCharts on Other Poems by Wilfred Owen
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