{"newspaper_name": "The Arkansas banner.", "edition": "01", "page": "p1", "byline": ""}
{"character_count": 376, "word_count": 62, "ccnet_language_score": [0.8414999842643738], "ccnet_perplexity": [1422.300048828125], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}
When Beau'y, at the close of garish day, Lingers along thy pebbed margin near, From out thy depths each chrystal sends ray, To greet the light that from her dark eyes peer Thy torrents come, thy streams attrition wears Each crystal down todust--Time's torrents come The maldens orbs, swept 'gainst the worlds rough

 cares,

 Are dimmed,-in Death her speaking glance is

 dumb