id	author	title	date	pages	extension	mime	words	sentences	flesch	summary	cache	txt
chapter-395		chapter-395			.txt	text/plain	70	7	89	To the Pending Year Have I no weapon-word for thee--some message brief and fierce? (Have I fought out and done indeed the battle?) Is there no shot left, For all thy affectations, lisps, scorns, manifold silliness? Nor for myself--my own rebellious self in thee? Down, down, proud gorge!--though choking thee; Thy bearded throat and high-borne forehead to the gutter; Crouch low thy neck to eleemosynary gifts.	./cache/chapter-395.txt	./txt/chapter-395.txt