id	author	title	date	pages	extension	mime	words	sentences	flesch	summary	cache	txt
chapter-278		chapter-278			.txt	text/plain	154	11	84	Thought As I sit with others at a great feast, suddenly while the music is playing, To my mind, (whence it comes I know not,) spectral in mist of a wreck at sea, Of certain ships, how they sail from port with flying streamers and wafted kisses, and that is the last of them, Of the solemn and murky mystery about the fate of the President, Of the flower of the marine science of fifty generations founderd off the Northeast coast and going down--of the steamship Arctic going down, Of the veild tableau-women gatherd together on deck, pale, heroic, waiting the moment that draws so close--O the moment! A huge sob--a few bubbles--the white foam spirting up--and then the women gone, Sinking there while the passionless wet flows on--and I now pondering, Are those women indeed gone? Are souls drownd and destroyd so? Is only matter triumphant?	./cache/chapter-278.txt	./txt/chapter-278.txt