id	author	title	date	pages	extension	mime	words	sentence	flesch	summary	cache	txt
dickinson-series01_059-1890	dickinson	dickinson-series01_059-1890	1890		.txt	text/plain	186	7	70	The wizard-fingers never rest, The purple brook within the breast Still chafes its narrow bed; Still rears the East her amber flag, Guides still the sun along the crag His caravan of red, Like flowers that heard the tale of dews, But never deemed the dripping prize Awaited their low brows; Or bees, that thought the summer's name Some rumor of delirium No summer could for them; Or Arctic creature, dimly stirred By tropic hint, -- some travelled bird Imported to the wood; Or wind's bright signal to the ear, Making that homely and severe, Contented, known, before A something in a summer's noon, -- An azure depth, a wordless tune, Transcending ecstasy.	cache/dickinson-series01_059-1890.txt	txt/dickinson-series01_059-1890.txt