{"id":"01KG6S5NCEG6X8A47AQ4PHWWYQ","cid":"bafkreifaxj6wkte6gmmaow37ty7v4v2xxmhh2jrh2zzpeebccvtvy4mgw4","type":"section","properties":{"description":"# Section 107\n\n## Overview - What this is (type, form, dates, scope)\nSection 107 is a text section extracted from a file, labeled as \"107\". It is part of a larger chapter titled \"SONNERS\" and was extracted on January 30, 2026. The section contains 16 lines of text, including a title and verse.\n\n## Context - Background and provenance from related entities\nThis section is part of the \"SONNERS\" chapter ([arke:01KG6S4D9EKTFTRX4K37SBJKRD]), which is contained within a larger collection titled \"PDF Workflow Main Test 2026-01-30T00:26:53\" ([arke:01KG6NWQ2H2K4PGG7H4ZHYCZ3Y]). The text was extracted from the file [pdf-01KG6Q7Q25RHMFT3SJXPV18VFF.txt](arke:01KG6S2X2EBB305ENM00G16GWA). The section is preceded by section \"106\" ([arke:01KG6S5MR3FAQFXR5014PFDVRF]) and followed by section \"108\" ([arke:01KG6S5NCE8NW4YEMKHKBRYJEZ]).\n\n## Contents - What it contains, key subjects and details\nSection 107 contains a poem beginning with the line \"Ot mine owne feares, nor the prophetick foule\". The poem discusses the speaker's love and its resilience against time and mortality. It mentions \"tyrants crests and tombs of brasse\" and suggests the poem itself will serve as a monument to the beloved.\n","description_generated_at":"2026-01-30T06:26:26.429Z","description_model":"gemini-2.5-flash-lite","description_title":"Section 107","end_line":12236,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T06:24:08.806Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"107","source_file":"01KG6S2X2EBB305ENM00G16GWA","start_line":12220,"text":"## 107\n\n**N** Ot mine owne feares, nor the prophetick foule,\nOf the wide world, dreaming on things to come,\nCan yet the lease of my true loue controule,\nSupposde as forfeit to a confin'd doome.\nThe mortall Moone hath her eclipse indur'de,\nAnd the sad Augurs mock their owne presage,\nIncestenties now crowne them-selues assur'de,\nAnd peace proclaimes Olives of endlesse age.\nNow with the drops of this most balmie time,\nMy loue lookes fresh, and death to me subserbes;\nSince spight of him Ile liue in this poore time,\nWhile he insults ore dull and speachlesse tribes.\nAnd thou in this shalt finde thy monument,\nWhen tyrants crests and tombs of brasse are spent.\n","title":"107"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG6S4D9EKTFTRX4K37SBJKRD","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG6S2X2EBB305ENM00G16GWA","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG6NWQ2H2K4PGG7H4ZHYCZ3Y","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG6S5MR3FAQFXR5014PFDVRF","peer_type":"section","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG6S5NCE8NW4YEMKHKBRYJEZ","peer_type":"section","predicate":"next"}],"ver":3,"created_at":"2026-01-30T06:24:12.686Z","ts":"2026-01-30T06:26:26.623Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF5C36SQEVDHC9CBNZZJH9K"}}