{"newspaper_name": "The Columbian fountain.", "edition": "01", "page": "p1", "byline": ""}
{"character_count": 2259, "word_count": 450, "ccnet_language_score": [0.8197000026702881], "ccnet_perplexity": [1800.699951171875], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}
Il tsMf BEE#N ktitIf &@kl- .Ett NA
We are growing od--how the thought will


mi rise .laslari aat .G7WA1s" we tilaa


When glance is backward cast ,,-. NJ
On some long remembered spot that lies
4 In the silence of the past ;AtiideA p h'3f
Il may be the shrine Of our earthly vows, 7. |, !
/ Or the tombs Of early tears. ]. ss s,,gf, atd
But it seems like a far-of Isle to u.s..


In the stormy sea Of years. Il sAaigA lrah
OH wide and,wide are the waves that part Z
One'sstep from its greenness now. i. sf,1 .5a.
And we miss the JOY Of many a heart, ~ gwu


And the light of many a brow,;~


For deep o'er many stately bark 9qaglrs2 a
+ Have the whelming pillows rolled r1re e7
That steered with sus,from that early mark
t. Oh, friends, we are growing oldi' s1't 4
RI gi Iu5 .teas5 a's8a fe' y.6THHta1 ,si9'H@t
Old in the dimness of the dust 9a''' t'' t'N
OF our daily tolls and cares--'ya, qga, q If
Old in the wrecks Of love and trust t2r.s sgab y
/ Y Which our burdened memory bears, aait'4
Each form may wear to the parting gaze "


The bloom Of life's freshness vet, a,,,. r. .,a n
And beams may brighten ourlater days, aana


Which1t the morning never met .olchF 'aa
But oh! the changes We have seen, y o@s y,
In the fair and winding way ,as1., sssr,,r,5
The graves in our paths that-haye grown


green, asiU 15 susa sdl VI aam h
a And the locks that have grown gray, o19
The winters still on our own may spare
1.-THE sable or the gold .,,. ... Il. .4
But we see their SHOWS upon brighter hair, O
i2 And, friends, we are growing oldzh bsIabar
We have gained the worlds cold wisdom now
foWeihave learned TO pause and fear 7 . sl !
But where are living founts whose flow. a,w


Was a Joy Of heart to hear?


We have won the wealth Of many cline,


And the lore Of many page; .aeaag .aas
But where is the hope that saw in time


But its boundess heritage2


Will it come again when the violet wakes ''


And the woods their youth renew 2 e;tQy
We~have stood in the light Of sunny brakes -a3.


Where the light is deep with blue;
And our soul might joy in the springtime
.faI then, i T....,. .i..,.,... rl.,'o - f,4., :
But thejoy was faint and cold ;nal y hafaaaa
For it never could give us the youth again \
OF hearts that are GROWN old! y ..,, a.. ..,. "