-7gT ..r,- For the Columbian Fosntain. !,
OH, ASK NE N OF TO ROVE AGAIN
{"newspaper_name": "The Columbian fountain.", "edition": "01", "page": "p2", "byline": ""}
{"character_count": 621, "word_count": 118, "ccnet_language_score": [0.7588000297546387], "ccnet_perplexity": [1232.300048828125], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}
Oh, ask me not 10 rove again,


Amid the festive throng 81 :.
7 Wits brightest gems, allure in vain
r There's sadness in each song.
When once the fow'ret's perfum's feed,
No art can e'er restore; laT a,a-asa .s.rg,
And when the hearts young bloom is dead,
-~ Life's brightest hours are o'er. .--A., +.
I IT'S true the lip may reckless smile, q


When pleasure holds its reign


And laughter seemingly beguile, ~


The mind imbued with pain. e. 'r1
!, But oh, tits like the sunbeams bright,
os That robe a sepulchre - a#l#N.
To the form within they yield no light,


Its mouldering rest to stir.
! s, seea7er e2 a G. M. al