OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Growing Up (de Schweinitz)/Chapter 1

When you came into the world you were a baby, but you had not always been a baby. Before you could be born you had first to grow to be a baby.
That meant a great deal of growing, for when you began your life you were much smaller than you were on the day on which you were born. You were so small that you could hardly have been seen. You were smaller than the tiniest dot that you can make with the sharpest pencil you can find. You were smaller than the little specks that dance in a sunbeam where it comes through the window. You were so small that you did not even seem to be a baby, and you really weren't a baby. You were almost as round as a ball and you looked more like a little egg than like anything else; and that is exactly what you were—a tiny, little egg.
​It was from this little egg that you grew to be a baby. That is how we all start living. The tallest and biggest man you know began his life as a tiny egg. Your parents and your grandparents and the rest of the people on the earth started growing in this way, and so did you. You came into the world as a baby but before you were born you grew to be a baby from a tiny, little egg.
Drawing by Eleanor M. Paxson.
# Felicia Hemans in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine Volume 24 1828/The Voice of the Wind

Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 24, Page 639
THE VOICE OF THE WIND.
"There is nothing in the wide world so like the voice of a spirit."—Gray's Letters.
I.
Oh! many a voice is thine, thou Wind! full many a voice is thine,
From every scene thy wing o'ersweeps, thou bear'st a sound and sign.
A minstrel wild, and strong thou art, with a mastery all thine own;
And the Spirit is thy harp, O Wind! that gives the answering tone.
II.
Thou hast been across red fields of war, where shiver'd helmets lie,
And thou bringest thence the thrilling note of a Clarion in the sky;
A rustling of proud banner-folds, a peal of stormy drums—
All these are in thy music met, as when a leader comes.
III.
Thou hast been o'er solitary seas, and from their wastes brought back
Each noise of waters that awoke in the mystery of thy track;
The chime of low soft southern waves on some green palmy shore,
The hollow roll of distant surge, the gather'd billows' roar.
IV.
Thou art come from forests dark and deep, thou mighty rushing Wind!
And thou bearest all their unisons in one full swell combined;
The restless pines, the moaning stream, all hidden things and free,
Of the dim old sounding wilderness, have lent their soul to thee.
V.
Thou art come from cities lighted up for the conqueror passing by,
Thou art wafting from their streets a sound of haughty revelry;
The rolling of triumphant wheels, the harpings in the hall,
The far-off shout of multitudes, are in thy rise and fall.
VI.
Thou art come from kingly tombs and shrines, from ancient minsters vast,
Through the dark aisles of a thousand years thy lonely wing hath pass'd;
Thou hast caught the Anthem's billowy swell, the stately Dirge's tone,
For a Chief with sword, and shield, and helm, to his place of slumber gone.
VII.
Thou art come from long-forsaken homes, wherein our young days flew,
Thou hast found sweet voices lingering there, the loved, the kind, the true;
Thou callest back those melodies, though now all changed and fled—
Be still, be still, and haunt us not with music from the dead!
VIII.
Are all these notes in thee, wild Wind? these many notes in thee?
Far in our own unfathom'd souls their fount must surely be;
Yes! buried but unsleeping there, Thought watches, Memory lies,
From whose deep Urn the tones are pour'd through all earth's harmonies!
F. H.
# Felicia Hemans in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine Volume 25 1829/The Recall

Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 25, Page 498
SONGS OF THE AFFECTIONS.
I.
THE RECALL.
Alas! the kind, the playful, and the gay,
They who have gladden'd their domestic board,
And cheer'd the winter hearth-do they return?
Joanna Baillie.
Come home!—there is a sorrowing breath
 In music since ye went;
And the early flower-scents wander by,
 With mournful memories blent:
The sounds of every household voice
 Are grown more sad and deep,
And the sweet word—Brother—wakes a wish
 To turn aside and weep.
O ye beloved, come home!—the hour
 Of many a greeting tone,
The time of hearth-light and of song
 Returns—and ye are gone!
And darkly, heavily it falls
 On the forsaken room,
Burdening the heart with tenderness,
 That deepens midst the gloom.
Where finds it you, our wandering ones?
 With all your boyhood's glee
Untamed, beneath the desert's palm,
 Or on the lone mid-sea?
'Mid stormy hills of battles old,
 Or where dark rivers foam? Oh! Life is dim where ye are not.—
 Back, ye beloved! come home!
Come with the leaves and winds of spring,
 And swift birds o'er the main!
Our love is grown too sorrowful,
 Bring us its youth again!
Bring the glad tones to music back— —Still, still your home is fair;
The spirit of your sunny life
 Alone is wanting there!F. H.
# Felicia Hemans in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine Volume 24 1828/The Two Voices

Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 24, Page 497
THE TWO VOICES.
Death and its twofold aspect:—Wintery, one,
Cold, sullen, blank, from Hope and Joy shut out:
The other, which the ray divine hath touch'd,
Replete with vivid promise, bright as spring.
Wordsworth.
Two solemn voices, in a funeral strain,
Met, as rich sunbeams and dark bursts of rain
Meet in the sky:
"Thou art gone hence!", one sang:—"Our light is flown,
Our Beautiful, that seem'd too much our own,
Ever to die!
"Thou art gone hence! Our joyous hills among
Never again to pour thy soul in song,
When spring-flowers rise!
Never the friend's familiar step to meet,
With loving laughter, and the welcome sweet
Of thy glad eyes."
"Thou art gone home, gone home!" Then high and clear
Warbled that other voice, "Thou hast no tears
Again to shed
Never to fold the robe o'er secret pain,—
Never, weigh'd down by memory's clouds again,
To bow thy head.
"Thou art gone home!—Oh! early crown'd and blest!
Where could the love of that deep heart find rest
With aught below?
Thou must have seen rich dream by dream decay,
All the bright rose-leaves drop from life away—
Thrice blest to go!"
Yet sigh'd again that breeze-like voice of grief—
"Thou art gone hence! Alas! that aught so brief,
So loved should be!
Thou tak'st our summer hence!—the flower, the tone,
The music of our being, all in one Depart with thee!
"Fair form, young spirit, morning-vision fled!
Can'st thou be of the dead, the awful dead?
The dark unknown?
Yes! to the dwelling where no footsteps fall,
Never again to light up hearth or hall,
Thy smile is gone!"
"Home, home!" once more th' exulting voice arose:
"Thou art gone home! from that divine repose
Never to roam!
Never to say farewell,—to weep in vain,—
To read of change in eyes beloved again;
Thou art gone home!
"By the bright waters now thy lot is cast;
Joy for thee, happy Friend!—thy bark hath past
The rough sea's foam.
Now the long yearnings of thy soul are still'd:
Home, home! thy peace is won, thy heart is fill'd,
Thou art gone home!" F. H.
# Felicia Hemans in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine Volume 24 1828/The Vaudois Wife

Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 24, Pages 782-783
THE VAUDOIS WIFE.*
"Clasp me a little longer, on the brink
 Of fate! while I can feel thy dear caress;
And when this heart hath ceased to beat—Oh! think,
 And let it mitigate thy woe's excess,
That Thou hast been to me all tenderness,
 And friend to more than human Friendship just.
Oh! by that retrospect of Happiness,
 And by the Hopes of an immortal trust,
 God shall assuage thy pangs—when I am laid in dust."
Gertrude of Wyoming.
Thy voice is in mine ear, Belov'd!  Thy look is in my heart,
Thy bosom is my resting-place,
 And yet I must depart.
Earth on my soul is strong—too strong—
 Too precious is its chain,
All woven of thy love, dear Friend!
 Yet vain—though mighty—vain!
Thou seest mine eye grow dim, Belov'd!  Thou seest my life-blood flow,—
Bow to the Chastener silently,
 And calmly let me go!
A little while between our hearts
 The shadowy gulf must lie,
Yet have we for their communing
 Still, still Eternity!
Alas! thy tears are on my cheek,
 My Spirit they detain,
I know that from thine agony
 Is wrung that burning rain.
Best—kindest—weep not! make the pang,
 The bitter conflict less—
Oh! sad it is, and yet a joy
 To feel thy love's excess!
But calm thee! let the thought of death
 A solemn calm restore!
The Voice that must be silent soon,
 Would speak to thee once more;
That thou mayst bear its blessing on
 Through years of after-life,
A token of consoling love,
 Even from this hour of strife.
I bless thee for the noble heart,
 The tender and the true,
Where mine hath found the happiest rest
 That e'er fond woman's knew;
I bless thee, faithful Friend and Guide,
 For my own, my treasured share,
In the mournful secrets of thy soul,
 In thy sorrow, in thy prayer.
I bless thee for kind looks and words,
 Shower'd on my path like dew;
For all the love in those deep eyes,
 A gladness ever new!
For the voice which ne'er to mine replied
 But in kindly tones of cheer,
For every spring of happiness
 My soul hath tasted here!
I bless thee for the last rich boon
 Won from affection tried,
The right to gaze on Death with thee,
 To perish by thy side! And yet more for the glorious Hope
 Even to these moments given— Did not thy Spirit ever lift
 The trust of mine to Heaven?
Now be thou strong!—Oh! know we not
 Our path must lead to this?
A shadow and a trembling still
 Were mingled with our bliss!
We plighted our young hearts, when storms
 Were dark upon the sky,
In full, deep knowledge of their task—  To suffer and to die!
Be strong! I leave the living voice
 Of this, my martyr blood,
With the thousand echoes of the hills,
 With the torrent's foaming flood,— A Spirit midst the leaves to dwell,
 A token on the air,
To rouse the valiant from repose,
 The fainting from despair.
Hear it, and bear thou on, my Love!
 Aye, joyously endure!
Our mountains must be altars yet,
 Inviolate and pure.
There must our God be worshipp'd still
 With the worship of the Free—
Farewell!—there's but one pang in Death,
 One only—leaving thee!
F. H.
# Felicia Hemans in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine Volume 25 1829/The Return

Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 25, Pages 570-571
SONGS OF THE AFFECTIONS.
BY MRS HEMANS.
IV.
THE RETURN.
Oh! bid him reverence, in his manhood's prime
His youth's bright morning-dream.
Don Carlos.
"Art thou come with the heart of thy childhood back,  The free, the pure, the kind?"
—So murmur'd the trees in my homeward track,
 As they play'd to the mountain wind:
"Hast thou been true to thine early love?
 Whisper'd my native streams;
"Doth the spirit, rear'd amidst hill and grove,
 Still revere its first high dreams?"
"Hast thou borne in thy bosom the holy prayer
 Of the child in his parent-halls?"—
Thus breathed a voice on the thrilling air
 From the old ancestral walls:
"Hast thou kept thy faith with the faithful dead,
 Whose place of rest is nigh?
With the father's blessing o'er thee shed?
 With the mother's trusting eye?"
Then my tears gush'd forth in sudden rain,
 As I answer'd—"O ye shades!
I bring not my childhood's heart again
 To the freedom of your glades!
"I have turn'd from my first pure love aside,
 O bright rejoicing streams! Light after light in my soul have died
 The early glorious dreams!
"And the holy prayer from my thoughts hath pass'd,
 The prayer at my mother's knee—
Darken'd and troubled I come at last,
 Thou home of my boyish glee!
"But I bear from my childhood a gift of tears
 To soften and atone;
And, O ye scenes of those blessed years!  They shall make me again your own."
# Felicia Hemans in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine Volume 25 1829

This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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This work is available under the Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication.
The person who associated a work with this deed has dedicated the work to the public domain by waiving all of their rights to the work worldwide under copyright law, including all related and neighboring rights, to the extent allowed by law. You can copy, modify, distribute and perform the work, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.
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Felicia Hemans in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine Volume 25 1829
Compiled By Peter J. Bolton
Contents
| | Page |
| The Ancestral Song | 221-222 |
| The Storm-Painter in his Dungeon | 227-228 |
| Songs of the Affections I - The Recall | 498 |
| Songs of the Affections II - The Indian with his Dead Child | 499 |
| Songs of the Affections III - The Two Homes | 500 |
| Songs of the Affections IV - The Return | 570-571 |
| Songs of the Affections V - The Wish | 571 |
| Songs of the Affections VI - The Soldier's Death-Bed | 714 |
| Songs of the Affections VII - The Charmed Picture | 715 |
| Songs of the Affections VIII - The Dreaming Child | 716 |
# Felicia Hemans in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine Volume 25 1829/The Charmed Picture

Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 25, Page 715
VII.
THE CHARMED PICTURE.
Oh! that those lips had language!—Life hath pass'd
With me but roughly since I saw thee last.
Thine eyes are charm'd—thine earnest eyes,
 Thou Image of the Dead!
A spell within this sweetness lies,
 A virtue thence is shed.
Oft in their meek blue light enshrined,
 A blessing seems to be;
And sometimes there, my wayward mind
 A still reproach can see.
And sometimes Pity—soft and deep,
 And quivering through a tear;
Ev'n as if Love in Heaven could weep,
 For Grief left drooping here.
And oh! my spirit needs that balm,
 Needs it midst fitful mirth,
And in the night-hour's haunted calm,
 And by the lonely hearth.
Look on me thus, when hollow Praise
 Hath made the weary pine,
For one true tone of other days,
 One glance of love like thine!
Look on me thus, when sudden glee
 Bears my quick heart along,
On wings that struggle to be free
 As bursts of skylark song.
In vain, in vain!—too soon are felt
 The wounds they cannot flee;
Better in child-like tears to melt,
 Pouring my soul on thee!
Sweet face, that o'er my childhood shone,
 Whence is thy power of change,
Thus, ever shadowing back my own,
 The rapid and the strange?
Whence are they charm'd—those earnest eyes?—
 I know the mystery well!
In my own trembling bosom lies
 The Spirit of the Spell.
Of Memory, Conscience, Love, 'tis born—
 Oh! change no longer, Thou!
For ever be the blessing worn
 On thy pure thoughtful brow!
# Felicia Hemans in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine Volume 25 1829/The Dreaming Child

Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 25, Page 716
VIII.
THE DREAMING CHILD.
Alas! what kind of grief should thy years know?
Thy brow and cheek are smooth as waters are
When no breath troubles them.
Beaumont & Fletcher.
And is there sadness in thy dream, my Boy?—
What should the cloud be made of?—blessed child!
Thy spirit, borne upon a breeze of joy,
All day hath ranged through sunshine, clear yet mild:
And now thou tremblest!—Wherefore?—in thy soul
There lies no Past, no Future. Thou hast heard
The sound of presage from the distance roll,
Thy breast bears traces of no arrowy word:
From thee no Love hath gone: thy mind's young eye
Hath look'd not into Death's, and thence become
A questioner of mute Eternity,
A weary searcher for a viewless home:
Nor hath thy sense been quicken'd into pain,
By feverish watching for some step beloved;—
Free are thy thoughts, an ever-changeful train,
Glancing like dewdrops, and as lightly moved.
Yet now, on billows of strange Passion toss'd,
How art thou wilder'd in the cave of Sleep!
My gentle child! midst what dim phantoms lost,
Thus in mysterious anguish dost thou weep?
Awake! they sadden me—those early tears,
First gushings of the strong dark River's flow,
That must o'ersweep thy soul with coming years—
Th' unfathomable flood of human woe!
Awful to watch, ev'n rolling through a dream,
Forcing wild spray-drops but from Childhood's eyes!— Wake, wake! as yet thy life's transparent stream
Should wear the tide of none but summer skies.
Come from the shadow of those realms unknown,
Where now thy thoughts dismay’d and darkling rove,
Come to the kindly region all thine own,
The Home still bright for thee with guardian Love!
Happy, fair child! that yet a Mother's voice
Can win thee back from visionary strife!—
Oh! shall my Soul, thus waken'd to rejoice,
Start from the dream-like Wilderness of Life?
# Felicia Hemans in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine Volume 25 1829/The Indian with his Dead Child

Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 25, Pages 498-499
II.
THE INDIAN WITH HIS DEAD CHILD.*
Then the hunter turn'd away from that scene,
Where the home of his fathers once had been,
And burning thoughts flash'd o'er his mind,
Of the white man's faith and love unkind.
Bryant.
In the silence of the midnight,
 I journey with the dead:
In the darkness of the forest boughs,
 A lonely path I tread.
But my heart is high and fearless,
 As by mighty wings upborne;
The mountain-eagle hath not plumes
 So strong as love and scorn.
I have raised thee from the grave-sod,
 By the white man's path defiled;
On to th' ancestral wilderness
 I bear thy dust, my child!
I have ask'd the ancient deserts
 To give my dead a place,
Where the stately footsteps of the free
 Alone should leave a trace:
And the rocking pines made answer—
 Go, bring us back thine own!
And the streams from all the hunter's hills,
 Rush'd with an echoing tone.
Thou shalt rest by sounding waters,
 That yet untamed may roll;
The voices of those chainless ones
 With joy shall fill thy soul.
In the silence of the midnight
 I journey with the dead,
Where the arrows of my father's bow
 Their falcon-flight have sped.
I have left the spoilers' dwellings
 For evermore behind;
Unmingled with their household sounds,
 For me shall sweep the wind.
Alone, amidst their hearth-fires,
 I watch'd my child's decay;
Uncheer'd I saw the spirit-light
 From his young eyes fade away.
When his head sank on my bosom,
 When the death-sleep o'er him fell,
Was there one to say—"A friend is near?"
 There was none!—Pale race, farewell!
To the forests, to the cedars,
 To the warrior and his bow,
Back, back! I bore thee laughing thence,
 —I bear thee slumbering now!
I bear him unto burial
 With the mighty hunters gone;—
I shall hear thee in the forest-breeze,—
 Thou wilt speak of joy, my son!
In the silence of the midnight
 I journey with the dead;
But my heart is strong, my step is fleet,
 My father's path I tread.
F. H.
# Hammond v. Mason and Hamlin Organ Company

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
92 U.S. 724
Hammond v. Mason and Hamlin Organ Company
APPEAL from the Circuit Court of the United States for the District of Massachusetts.
Mr. B. E. Valentine for the appellants.
Mr. Frederick H. Betts, contra.
MR. JUSTICE MILLER delivered the opinion of the court.

## Notes

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
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# Hamond

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Hamond."
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, Wikidata item.
This is a disambiguation page. It lists works that share the same title. If an article link referred you here, please consider editing it to point directly to the intended page.
* Hamond, Andrew Snape
* Hamond, George
* Hamond, Graham Eden
* Hamond, Walter
# Hampton Company v. United States

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
276 U.S. 394
Hampton Company v. United States
Argued: March 1, 1928. --- Decided: April 9, 1928
Mr. Walter E. Hampton, of New York City, for petitioner.
[Argument of Counsel from pages 395-397 intentionally omitted]
The Attorney General and Mr. W. D. Mitchell, Sol. Gen., of Washington, D. C., for the United States.
[Argument of Counsel from pages 398-400 intentionally omitted]
Mr. Chief Justice TAFT delivered the opinion of the Court.

## Notes

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Ferry v. Spokane, Portland, & Seattle Railway Company

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
258 U.S. 314
Ferry v. Spokane, Portland, & Seattle Railway Company
Argued: and Submitted March 20, 1922. --- Decided: April 10, 1922
Messrs. Henry L. Brant and Charles Haldane, both of New York City, and James G. Wilson, of Portland, Or., for appellant.
[Argument of Counsel from page 315-316 intentionally omitted]
Messrs. Charles H. Carey and James B. Kerr, both of Portland, Or., for appellees.
[Argument of Counsel from page 316-317 intentionally omitted]
Mr. Justice McKENNA delivered the opinion of the Court.

## Notes

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
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# Festival

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Festival."
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
This is a disambiguation page. It lists works that share the same title. If an article link referred you here, please consider editing it to point directly to the intended page.

## Poems

* "Festival" (1923, "Maple oars lash the sea, red with the setting sun"), a poem by Elizabeth Jane Coatsworth
* "The Festival", versions of a poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon 'The young and the lovely are gathered' (1830)
* "The Festival", a poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon 'It is a festal meeting' (1835)
* "The Festival" (1882, "It was the Patron's day, a solemn feast"), a poem by Adam Mickiewicz

## Short stories

* "The Festival" (1925), a story by H. P. Lovecraft
# Ferry v. Ramsey

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
277 U.S. 88
Ferry v. Ramsey
Argued: April 25, 1928. --- Decided: May 14, 1928
Mr. L. J. Bond, of El Dorado, Kan., for plaintiff in error ferry.
[Argument of Counsel from pages 88-90 intentionally omitted]
Messrs. S. M. Brewster and John L. Hunt, both of Topeka, Kan., and Bruce A. Campbell, of East St. Louis, Ill., for plaintiff in error Harris.
Mr. K. M. Geddes, of El Dorado, Kan., for defendants in error.
[Argument of Counsel from page 92 intentionally omitted]
Mr. Justice HOLMES delivered the opinion of the Court.

## Notes

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse