id	author	title	date	pages	extension	mime	words	sentence	flesch	summary	cache	txt
dickinson-series03_138-1896	dickinson	dickinson-series03_138-1896	1896		.txt	text/plain	94	5	89	And then I heard them lift a box, And creak across my soul With those same boots of lead, again. I felt a funeral in my brain, And mourners, to and fro, Kept treading, treading, till it seemed That sense was breaking through.	cache/dickinson-series03_138-1896.txt	txt/dickinson-series03_138-1896.txt
