id	author	title	date	pages	extension	mime	words	sentences	flesch	summary	cache	txt
37752	Presland, John	Poems of London, and Other Verses			.txt	text/plain	10218	865	96	And yellow, like the spring moon's light, Green is the sky, like some strange precious stone, The muscles run and check, like living things. There comes an old man to our street, Of the spear-head bright battalions of the little green things growing The humble small things of a day. Like a cold, stealthy, creeping, living thing. And like a star he burned through the dark air, And who on earth such love had had for men But the heart of men his love could not renew: All that Love is, this thing as swift as flame Love is the thing that stands But living and knowing and loving in our brain we hold them all. Love that is like a flame, Love that has wide, white wings like a flying swan Love is most like a bird, Your life, dear love--and here I seem to see	./cache/37752.txt	./txt/37752.txt