id	author	title	date	pages	extension	mime	words	sentences	flesch	summary	cache	txt
chapter-392		chapter-392			.txt	text/plain	119	9	93	The Pallid Wreath Somehow I cannot let it go yet, funeral though it is, Let it remain back there on its nail suspended, With pink, blue, yellow, all blanchd, and the white now gray and ashy, One witherd rose put years ago for thee, dear friend; But I do not forget thee. Hast thou then faded? Is the odor exhaled? Are the colors, vitalities, dead? No, while memories subtly play--the past vivid as ever; For but last night I woke, and in that spectral ring saw thee, Thy smile, eyes, face, calm, silent, loving as ever: So let the wreath hang still awhile within my eye-reach, It is not yet dead to me, nor even pallid.	./cache/chapter-392.txt	./txt/chapter-392.txt