{"newspaper_name": "The Washingtonian.", "edition": "01", "page": "p1", "byline": ""}
{"character_count": 360, "word_count": 68, "ccnet_language_score": [0.9478999972343445], "ccnet_perplexity": [1647.9000244140625], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}
Love is solitary leaf, but neither storm nor
blight can fade it. Like the perfume that a
dead flower sends forth, it is sweet when all
->the gay sun has departed; when all its bloom
is past, it has the fragrance of memory; it is
the last lingering beam that grows long after
the sun and star have set-a refuge from the
tempestuous and bereaying storms Of life.