---

Wilfred Owen - Anthem For Doomed Youth
Work rating: High

	What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
	    Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
	    Only the stuttering rifles` rapid rattle
	Can patter out their hasty orisons.
	No mockeries for them; no prayers nor bells,
	Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, —
	The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
	And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
	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 patient minds,
	  And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.