{"newspaper_name": "The Columbian fountain.", "edition": "01", "page": "p1", "byline": ""}
{"character_count": 1456, "word_count": 258, "ccnet_language_score": [0.920199990272522], "ccnet_perplexity": [1704.0999755859375], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}



Are few, but deep and solemn, and they break
Fresh from the fount Of feeling !-Percipai


THE MAGNETIC TELEGRAPH.


BY MRS. Z. l.. sCHERMERHoRN.
Oh carrier dove, spread not thy wing,
Thou beauteous messenger OF air
To waiting eyes and hearts to bring
The tidings thou were wont to bear
Urge not the flying courser's speed,
Give not his neck the loosened reign,
Nor bid his painting side to bleed,


As swift he thunders o'er the plain.
Touch but the magic wire, and 10!
Thy thought is borne on flaming track,
And swiller far than winds can blow,
Is sped the rapid answer back
The sage. who wood the lightnng's blaze,
Till, STOPPING from the summer cloud,
II played around with harmless rays,
BY Fame is trumpeted aloud.
And sure she has a lofty need
For him whose thought, with seraph reach,
To language gives the lightnlng's speed,
And wings electric, lends to speech. ..
The dwellers on the Atlantic shore
A word may breathe, and, swift as light,
Where far Pacific waters roar,


That word speeds on with magic flight.
Thoughts freshly kindling in the mind,
And words, the echoes of the soul,
Borne on its wiry pinions, bind
Hearts sundered far as pole from pole.
AS flashes o'er the summer skies


The lightning's blaze from east to west,
O'er earth the burning fluid flies,
Winged by mortal's proud behest.
Though flaming cherubs bar the gate,
Since man by tasting grew too wise,
He seems again to tempt the fate
| That drove him first from Paradise