id	author	title	date	pages	extension	mime	words	sentences	flesch	summary	cache	txt
1034	Owen, Wilfred	Poems			.txt	text/plain	7402	709	95	He never wrote his poems (as so many war-poets did) War brought more glory to their eyes than blood, And Death fell with me, like a deepening moan. Dawn breaks open like a wound that bleeds afresh Parable of the Old Men and the Young Their old wounds save with cold can not more ache. Far off, like a dull rumour of some other war. Knowing their feet had come to the end of the world. Till like a cold gust thrilled the little word The sun, like a friend with whom their love is done. His eyes grew old with wincing, and his hand He'd seen men shoot their hands, on night patrol, Like secret men who know their secret safe. One dies of war like any old disease. This bandage feels like pennies on my eyes. one week before the war ended, it should be noted that these poems are	./cache/1034.txt	./txt/1034.txt