{"character_count": 1148, "word_count": 203, "ccnet_language_score": [0.9369999766349792], "ccnet_perplexity": [1780.5999755859375], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}
Still, in the sad and serious hours Of life,
Turns to the sister, mother, friend, or wife;
Views with heart of fond and trusttul pride
His faithful partner by his calm tireside;
And oft. when barr'd of Fortunes tickle


grace,


Black ruin stares him darkly in his face,
Leans his faint head upon her kindly breast,
And owns her power to sOothe him into rest
Owns that the gift of Womans love IS worth
To cheer his tolls and trials upon earth!
'Sure it is much, this delegated power
To be consoler of Mans heaviest hour!
The guardian angel of life of care,
Allow d to stand 'twixt him and his despair!
Such service may be made holy task;
And more, 'twere vain to hope, and rash to


ask.


Therefore, oh! loved, and lovely, be content
And take thy lot, with JOY and sorrow blent.
Judge none; yet let thy share of conduct be
AS knowing judgment shall be passed on


thee


Here and hereafter; so still undsmay'd,
And guarded by thy sweet thoughts tranquil


shade,


UndazzIed by the changeful days which


threw


Their light across thy path while life was


new,


Thou shalt move sober on--eXpecting less,
Therefore, the more enjoying, happiness.