[
  {
    "title": "To Marie Louise (Shew)",
    "author": "Edgar Allan Poe",
    "lines": [
      "Of all who hail thy presence as the morning--",
      "Of all to whom thine absence is the night--",
      "The blotting utterly from out high heaven",
      "The sacred sun--of all who, weeping, bless thee",
      "Hourly for hope--for life--ah, above all,",
      "For the resurrection of deep buried faith",
      "In truth, in virtue, in humanity--",
      "Of all who, on despair's unhallowed bed",
      "Lying down to die, have suddenly arisen",
      "At thy soft-murmured words, \"Let there be light!\"",
      "At thy soft-murmured words that were fulfilled",
      "In thy seraphic glancing of thine eyes--",
      "Of all who owe thee most, whose gratitude",
      "Nearest resembles worship,--oh, remember",
      "The truest, the most fervently devoted,",
      "And think that these weak lines are written by him--",
      "By him who, as he pens them, thrills to think",
      "His spirit is communing with an angel's."
    ],
    "linecount": "18"
  },
  {
    "title": "To Marie Louise (Shew)",
    "author": "Edgar Allan Poe",
    "lines": [
      "Not long ago, the writer of these lines,",
      "In the mad pride of intellectuality,",
      "Maintained \"the power of words\"--denied that ever",
      "A thought arose within the human brain",
      "Beyond the utterance of the human tongue:",
      "And now, as if in mockery of that boast,",
      "Two words--two foreign soft dissyllables--",
      "Italian tones, made only to be murmured",
      "By angels dreaming in the moonlit \"dew",
      "That hangs like chains of pearl on Hermon hill,\"--",
      "Have stirred from out the abysses of his heart,",
      "Unthought-like thoughts that are the souls of thought,",
      "Richer, far wilder, far diviner visions",
      "Than even the seraph harper, Israfel,",
      "(Who has \"the sweetest voice of all God's creatures,\")",
      "Could hope to utter. And I! my spells are broken.",
      "The pen falls powerless from my shivering hand.",
      "With thy dear name as text, though hidden by thee,",
      "I cannot write--I cannot speak or think--",
      "Alas, I cannot feel; for 'tis not feeling,",
      "This standing motionless upon the golden",
      "Threshold of the wide-open gate of dreams,",
      "Gazing, entranced, adown the gorgeous vista,",
      "And thrilling as I see, upon the right,",
      "Upon the left, and all the way along,",
      "Amid empurpled vapors, far away",
      "To where the prospect terminates--_thee only_!"
    ],
    "linecount": "27"
  }
]