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Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Anthem For A Doomed Youth

Got onto the subject of wartime poetry with some folks on FB today:

What candles may be held to speed them all?
 Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
 The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of silent minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

Wilfred Owen (1893-1918).

ntodd

November 20, 2012 | Permalink

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Comments

After all's said and done, I think Wilfred Owen's the best of the lot.

Posted by: Dr. Woody | Nov 20, 2012 8:58:59 PM

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