{"character_count": 871, "word_count": 147, "ccnet_language_score": [0.906000018119812], "ccnet_perplexity": [1165.699951171875], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}
WOMAN AT THE Couch OF SIcKNEss-I love
to see her at the couch of sickness, sustaining
the fainting head-offering to the parched lips
its cordial-to the craving palate its simple
misunderstanding with noiseless assidui
ty around the solemn curtains, and complying
with the wish of the invalid when he says


LET me not have this gloomy view


About my room, about my bed,


But blooming roses wet with dew,


TO cool my burning brow instead"
DisPoslng the sunlight upon the pale forehead
bathing the hair with ointment. and settl;no
upon it, from the summer easements. the aiI
that breathes of heaven. How lovely are such
exhibitions sofever-enduring constancy and faith
How they appear TO the soul, like the lover in
Canticles, whose fingers, when she rose to open
the door TO her beloved, were "dripping with
sweet smelling myrrh upon the handle of the
lock."-N. o. Pic.