From he London Metropolitan.

 STANZAS FOR MUSIC.
{"character_count": 786, "word_count": 151, "ccnet_language_score": [0.9235000014305115], "ccnet_perplexity": [1798.0999755859375], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}
 Oh! strike the lute. lady! the wildness that clings To my spirit grows tame while listen to thee; Iris music alone that can open the springs Ofthis dark frozen bosom; sing, lady, to me! That song-oh how well I remember the strain, When it stole on me first from the lips that are cold Those lips that can never breathe music again, Oh tell me to love, as they oftimes have told. oh!- strike the lute, lady but wake not the strings 'Io the soft lay of love, Of the light note Of joy; Some sweet Sabbath air that to memory brings The home and the friends that left when a boy. Thus begulled let me sit-thus, in fancy, be- hold The loved and the loving ones still at my side; And forget the long years that in darkness have rolled, Since those loved and those loving ones faded and died. 