id	author	title	date	pages	extension	mime	words	sentences	flesch	summary	cache	txt
50043	Maeterlinck, Maurice	Poems			.txt	text/plain	8365	854	94	This machinery of hot-houses, bell-glasses, hospitals, and what O Hot-house deep in the forest's heart! And the knell of a passing-bell at the mid-day hour of Angelus. Shall cover these domes of crystal set amid ice and snow! O heart to dreams that open lies! The road is long from my heart to my soul, One day there was a poor little festival in the suburbs of my soul! My hands, the lilies of my soul, The dreams of weary men, that die, And I who wait shall see its hands appear, And are casting great handfuls of green lilies Or of people entering, at mid-day, a long lamp-lit The way my weary soul should pass, When with her azure hands the moon And some hands were like a convent without a garden! Until other cooler hands should come to set the doors ajar, The days to be will open the doors,	./cache/50043.txt	./txt/50043.txt