id	author	title	date	pages	extension	mime	words	sentences	flesch	summary	cache	txt
3757	Van Dyke, Henry	The White Bees			.txt	text/plain	11527	990	95	For the perfect sweetness of her flower-like face; My heart is turning home again, and there I long to I love the old white farmhouses nestled in New Knowing not who thou wert, till the touch of thy All of thy flowers and birds and forests and flowing waters Like organ-music comes the deep reply: And made thee, Milton, by thy years of pain, Wordsworth, thy music like a river rolls A man too wise to let his heart grow old! For look, sweet heart, here are the early flowers, Her lips are like a lovely song, A little land of love and joy and rest, A little house of peace and joy and love Of Love with open heart, and make this plea: Our very heart-beats praise the Love that leads Clear in your dreams of me the light of love is "The place I loved and liked the best	./cache/3757.txt	./txt/3757.txt