id	author	title	date	pages	extension	mime	words	sentence	flesch	summary	cache	txt
dickinson-series01_056-1890	dickinson	dickinson-series01_056-1890	1890		.txt	text/plain	115	5	87	The grass so little has to do, -- A sphere of simple green, With only butterflies to brood, And bees to entertain, And stir all day to pretty tunes The breezes fetch along, And hold the sunshine in its lap And bow to everything; And thread the dews all night, like pearls, And make itself so fine, -- A duchess were too common For such a noticing. And even when it dies, to pass In odors so divine, As lowly spices gone to sleep, Or amulets of pine.	cache/dickinson-series01_056-1890.txt	txt/dickinson-series01_056-1890.txt
