id	author	title	date	pages	extension	mime	words	sentences	flesch	summary	cache	txt
56037	Golding, Louis	Sorrow of War: Poems			.txt	text/plain	13195	1461	100	How shall you lift your singing head? And there are eyes there--blue like blue doves' wings, "Night is like cinders: day is lean and stern. Shall your eyes that day be mild, The tiny dead throat shall sing no more, Sleep like little lambs to-night. To-night a thought leapt in my head like flame. And the breath of our singing shall fall on you like stone. Until the Sun's sky-ways again shall be free!" For we shall crowd the trees with birds, All night your bodies move like furtive ghosts, Birds shall make song. Not God Himself shall bid Time stand to lock I shall take my place in the Self of God. Shall we come again with singing Like men and boys that knew of old For soon enough, the Lord knows, shall I be dead, and hills shall sing again. And I shall have green eyes	./cache/56037.txt	./txt/56037.txt