{"character_count": 671, "word_count": 126, "ccnet_language_score": [0.9406999945640564], "ccnet_perplexity": [1372.800048828125], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}
Dear Lady. a little fear 'Tis dangerous to be writing here, His hand, who bade our Eagle fly, Trust his young wings and mount the sky; Q Who hade, across the Atlantic tide, New thunders sweep, new navies ride, Has traced, in lines of trembling age, His autograph upon this page.

 Higher than that Eagle scars, Louder than that thunder roars, His iame shall through the world be sounding And OCT the waves of time be bounding. While thousands, as absurd as 7, Cling to the skirts, he still will fly, And cling to immortality.

 If by his name write my own, 'Twili take me where 7 am not known, . The cold salute will meet my ear, "Pray, stranger, how did you come here '"