OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Early poems of William Morris/Shameful Death

illustrator: Florence Harrison
There were four of us about that bed;
The mass-priest knelt at the side,
I and his mother stood at the head,
Over his feet lay the bride;
We were quite sure that he was dead,
Though his eyes were open wide.
He did not die in the night,
He did not die in the day,
But in the morning twilight
His spirit pass'd away,
When neither sun nor moon was bright,
And the trees were merely grey.
He was not slain with the sword,
Knight's axe, or the knightly spear,
Yet spoke he never a word
After he came in here;
I cut away the cord
From the neck of my brother dear.
He did not strike one blow,
For the recreants came behind,
In a place where the hornbeams grow,
A path right hard to find, ​For the hornbeam boughs swing so,
That the twilight makes it blind.
They lighted a great torch then,
When his arms were pinion'd fast,
Sir John the knight of the Fen,
Sir Guy of the Dolorous Blast,
With knights threescore and ten,
Hung brave Lord Hugh at last.
I am threescore and ten,
And my hair is all turn'd grey,
But I met Sir John of the Fen
Long ago on a summer day,
And am glad to think of the moment when
I took his life away.
I am threescore and ten,
And my strength is mostly pass'd, But long ago I and my men, When the sky was overcast, And the smoke roll'd over the reeds of the fen,
Slew Guy of the Dolorous Blast.
And now, knights all of you,
I pray you pray for Sir Hugh,
A good knight and a true,
And for Alice, his wife, pray too.
# Early poems of William Morris/Praise of My Lady

illustrator: Florence Harrison
My lady seems of ivory
Forehead, straight nose, and cheeks that be
Hollow'd a little mournfully,
Beata mea Domina!
Her forehead, overshadow'd much
By bows of hair, has a wave such
As God was good to make for me.
Beata mea Domina!
Nor greatly long my lady's hair,
Nor yet with yellow colour fair,
But thick and crisped wonderfully:
Beata mea Domina!
Heavy to make the pale face sad,
And dark, but dead as though it had
Been forged by God most wonderfully
—Beata mea Domina!—
Of some strange metal, thread by thread,
To stand out from my lady's head,
Not moving much to tangle me.
Beata mea Domina!
​Beneath her brows the lids fall slow, The lashes a clear shadow throw Where I would wish my lips to be. Beata mea Domina!
Her great eyes, standing far apart, Draw up some memory from her heart, And gaze out very mournfully; —Beata mea Domina!—
So beautiful and kind they are, But most times looking out afar, Waiting for something, not for me. Beata mea Domina!
I wonder if the lashes long Are those that do her bright eyes wrong, For always half tears seem to be —Beata mea Domina!—
Lurking below the underlid. Darkening the place where they lie hid— If they should rise and flow for me! Beata mea Domina!
Her full lips being made to kiss, Curl'd up and pensive each one is; This makes me faint to stand and see. Beata mea Domina!
Her lips are not contented now, Because the hours pass so slow Towards a sweet time: (pray for me), —Beata mea Domina!—
​Nay, hold thy peace! for who can tell; But this at least I know full well, Her lips are parted longingly, —Beata mea Domina!—
So passionate and swift to move, To pluck at any flying love, That I grow faint to stand and see. Beata mea Domina!
Yea! there beneath them is her chin, So fine and round, it were a sin To feel no weaker when I see —Beata mea Domina!—
God's dealings; for with so much care And troublous, faint lines wrought in there, He finishes her face for me. Beata mea Domina!
Of her long neck what shall I say? What things about her body's sway, Like a knight's pennon or slim tree —Beata mea Domina!—
Set gently waving in the wind; Or her long hands that I may find On some day sweet to move o'er me? Beata mea Domina!
God pity me though, if I miss'd The telling, how along her wrist The veins creep, dying languidly —Beata mea Domina!—
​Inside her tender palm and thin.
Now give me pardon, dear, wherein
My voice is weak and vexes thee.
Beata mea Domina!
All men that see her any time,
I charge you straightly in this rhyme,
What, and wherever you may be,
—Beata mea Domina!—
To kneel before her; as for me,
I choke and grow quite faint to see
My lady moving graciously.
Beata mea Domina!
# Early poems of William Morris/Riding Together

illustrator: Florence Harrison
For many, many days together
The wind blew steady from the East;
For many days hot grew the weather,
About the time of our Lady's Feast.
For many days we rode together,
Yet met we neither friend nor foe;
Hotter and clearer grew the weather,
Steadily did the East wind blow.
We saw the trees in the hot, bright weather.
Clear-cut, with shadows very black,
As freely we rode on together
With helms unlaced and bridles slack.
And often, as we rode together,
We, looking down the green-bank'd stream,
Saw flowers in the sunny weather,
And saw the bubble-making bream.
My prison-bars are thick and strong, I take no heed of any weather, The sweet Saints grant I live not long.
​And in the night lay down together, And hung above our heads the rood, Or watch'd night-long in the dewy weather, The while the moon did watch the wood.
Our spears stood bright and thick together, Straight out the banners stream'd behind, As we gallop'd on in the sunny weather, With faces turn'd towards the wind.
Down sank our threescore spears together, As thick we saw the pagans ride; His eager face in the clear fresh weather, Shone out that last time by my side.
Up the sweep of the bridge we dash'd together, It rock'd to the crash of the meeting spears, Down rain'd the buds of the dear spring weather, The elm-tree flowers fell like tears.
There, as we roll'd and writhed together, I threw my arms above my head, For close by my side, in the lovely weather, I saw him reel and fall back dead.
I and the slayer met together, He waited the death-stroke there in his place, With thoughts of death, in the lovely weather, Gapingly mazed at my madden'd face.
Madly I fought as we fought together; In vain: the little Christian band The pagans drown'd, as in stormy weather, The river drowns low-lying land.
​They bound my blood-stain'd hands together, They bound his corpse to nod by my side: Then on we rode, in the bright March weather, With clash of cymbals did we ride.
We ride no more, no more together; My prison-bars are thick and strong, I take no heed of any weather, The sweet Saints grant I live not long.
# Dr. Heidenhoff's Process
### Contents

* Chapter I
* Chapter II
* Chapter III
* Chapter IV
* Chapter V
* Chapter VI
* Chapter VII
* Chapter VIII
* Chapter IX
* Chapter X
* Chapter XI
* Chapter XII
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Dictionary of the Swatow dialect/hiuh
### hiuh

* 拂hiuh154645
* To brush; to flap; to wave to and fro.

#### hiuh-tīo tîn-ai;

    brush down the cobwebs.

#### màiⁿ thèng hiuh tîeh nâng;

    do not hit people by careless brushing.

#### hiuh lío, phông-phông eng;

    after dusting the dust flies everywhere.

#### khîeh ki tōa ki kâi lâi hiuh cìaⁿ ŭ bī;

    take a large one to dust with and then it will be of some use.
* 扶hiuh73645
* To flog; to thrash.

#### cang tek-pì-kíaⁿ hiuh-hiuh-kìe, lí-kẃn hiuh;

    took a bamboo whip, and laid it on him so that you could hear the blows incessantly.

#### hiuh kàu i cêk sin cĕng-cĕng khĕng;

    thrashed him till his body was covered with wales.
# Dictionary of the Swatow dialect/hiong
### hiong

* 兇hiong213104
* Malevolent; desperate; cruel.

#### khîang-hiong pău-ak kâi nâng;

    a fierce and cruel person.

#### cò̤ sṳ̄ sĭm sĭ hiong-hûeⁿ;

    acts in a most brutal way.

#### cĭa sì kîaⁿ hiong;

    employed his power to act savagely.

#### lîah hiong chíu;

    seize the murderer.

#### bói hiong chíu;

    purchase a substitute to receive the punishment due a murderer.

#### pang-hiong;

    an accomplice in murder.

#### cìaⁿ hiong;

    the chief actor in a murder.

#### mīn-hêng sĭm sĭ hiong-ak;

    he has a most malignant expression.

#### hiong-hṳ́n;

    desperate.
* 凶hiong213172
* Unlucky; unfortunate; lugubrious.

#### kit hiong;

    lucky or unlucky.

#### būe cai kit hiong cò̤-nî;

    do not yet know whether it is lucky or unlucky.

#### hiong cheⁿ sìu;

    a baleful star.

#### hiong sie-sit;

    bad news.

#### m̄ cai sî hiong a sĭ kit;

    do not know whether it portends evil or good.

#### cí kâi khùe pńg-pńg sĭ tăi hiong: tăng sĭ hṳ́ khùe tói ŏi hông hiong hùe kit;

    the outcome of this divination should properly be unfortunate: however, there is that in the deeper meanings of the divination which may change the ill-fortune into good.

#### chng chek sĭ hó̤ hûang hiong nî;

    the garnered grain is a provision against years of dearth.
* 雄hîong2141724
* Masculine; martial; heroic.

#### hîong-càng;

    burly.

#### cí kâi nâng thóiⁿ tîeh ŭ hîong sì;

    this person appears very muscular.

#### seⁿ lâi hîong-hîong càng-càng;

    naturally very robust.

#### lâi kio i kwt kâi chṳ̂ hîong;

    come and test your strength against his.

#### hîong-n̂g;

    hartall.

#### hîong ceng;

    the purest part of hartall.

#### tàⁿ ūe ŭ chṳ̂ ŭ hîong;

    speak with modulations.

#### i kâi cò̤ sṳ̄ bô̤ chṳ̂ bô̤ hîong;

    he does not modulate his strength.

#### i kâi kok ŭ peh bw̄n hîong piaⁿ;

    their kingdom has a million brave soldiers.

#### sin cío bŏi hîong;

    a newly caught bird will not fight.

#### ēng lîah jîeh kú cìaⁿ ŏi hîong?

    How long must it be trained before it will fight?

#### cí ciah cío hîong căi;

    this bird is a great fighter.

#### khṳt i tĭen hîong;

    give him time to get up his courage.
# Dictionary of the Swatow dialect/hio
### hio

* 梟hio192757
* Unscrupulous; wicked.

#### hio-hîong;

    unscrupulous.

#### cí kâi nâng hio-hîong căi;

    this is a very lawless fellow.

#### cí cêk khí châk eng-kai-tîeh hio síu sī cèng;

    these bandits should have their heads exposed in cages as a warning to others.
* 驍hio19118712
* Brave; heroic, valorous.

#### cí kúi kâi bú kuaⁿ sĭ hio-íong căi;

    these military officers are very courageous.

#### hio-íong kâi cìang;

    a brave leader.
* 儌倖hio-hĕng368
* Lucky; beyond one's deserts or expectations; prosperous.

#### cía sǹg sĭ hío-hĕng căi;

    this is indeed a stroke of luck.

#### sṳ̄ tîeh cò̤ ún-tàng, mó̤ sĭeⁿ hio-hĕng;

    one must do things in a safe way, and not depend on having a stroke of luck.

#### i cìeⁿ-seⁿ sǹg sĭ tó̤ thû hio-hĕng;

    he is then depending on a stroke of luck. ​
* 澆hio3688512
* Perfidious.

#### i kâi nâng hio căi;

    he is thoroughly bad.

#### hio-lî, khek-pô̤h;

    infamous.

#### hṳ́-kò̤ kâi hong-sôk to sĭ hio-lî khek-pô̤h;

    the customs of that place are infamous.
* 曉hío1937212
* To comprehend; to understand; dawn.

#### lṳ́ hío a m̄ hío?

    Do you comprehend?

#### i cò̤ sṳ̄ bô̤ hun bô̤ hío;

    he acts without discretion.

#### m̄ cai hun hío;

    does not know how to discriminate.

#### i mih sṳ̄ to ŭ hun ŭ hío;

    in all sorts of business, he exercises judgment.

#### būe hío i kâi ì-sṳ̀;

    do not yet comprehend his meaning.

#### i hío tit cìeⁿ-seⁿ;

    he understands that sort of thing.

#### hío thien-bûn kâi nâng;

    astrologers.

#### hío khṳ̀ thàng; hío khṳ̀ thàu;

    understands thoroughly.

#### chut kò̤-sī hío-jŭ peh-sèⁿ;

    issue a proclamation to inform the people.

#### i sĭang hío;

    he is best informed on the subject.

#### lṳ́ mih sṳ̄ to hío;

    you understand all about it.

#### i kĭaⁿ-kĭaⁿ hío, bô̤ kĭaⁿ ceng;

    he understands every trade, and is expert at none.

#### koi pò̤ hío;

    the cock announces the dawn.

#### hío kîaⁿ, mêⁿ hiah;

    start at dawn and stop at dark.
# Dictionary of the Swatow dialect/hiohⁿ
### hiohⁿ

* 摔hiohⁿ7856411
* To flirt; to cast off by a short jerk; to fling off by a shake.

#### hṳ́ kò̤ sĭ i tó̤ hiohⁿ saⁿ-ńg;

    he it is that flirts his sleeves there; he is the biggest man there.

#### hīn-khek sĭ tó̤ hiohⁿ saⁿ-ńg kâi nâng;

    he is now putting on airs of authority.

#### tŏ̤ bé téng khṳt i hiohⁿ lô̤h lâi, cău-hùe bŏi pûah tîeh;

    was thrown off by the horse's shaking himself, but happily did not fall flat.

#### khṳt bé hiohⁿ pûah lô̤h khṳ̀;

    got a fall from the horse through his shying.

#### pò-tō̤ hiohⁿ cīeⁿ koiⁿ-thâu;

    flung the bag over his shoulder.

#### hîuⁿ hiohⁿ tŏ̤ koiⁿ-thâu tèng;

    had his wadded tunic flung over his shoulder.
# Dictionary of the Swatow dialect/hit
### hit

* 曳hit282732
* To swing or dangle.

#### hit kha;

    to swing the feet.

#### ki búe pŵt-pŵt hit;

    his tail keeps wagging.

#### chíu hit-a-hit;

    the hands swinging carelessly.

#### màiⁿ hit ka-lâuh khṳ̀;

    do not drop it from your hands as you swing them.

#### kîaⁿ lō chíu màiⁿ hit khah khui;

    in walking do not swing your hands too much.
# Dictionary of the Swatow dialect/hiuⁿ
### hiuⁿ

* 幽hiuⁿ1109526
* Obscure; retired; hidden from view.

#### hiuⁿ-mêng sĭ àm-thâu;

    hades is the region of darkness.

#### cêk koiⁿ siu-sîp khṳ̀ sĭm sĭ hiuⁿ ngía;

    the place is most tastefully adorned.

#### hiuⁿ ôiⁿ;

    retired leisure.

#### hiuⁿ mêng put gūa cêk lí;

    the land of the dead, and the land of the living are no great distance apart.

#### cí kâi tī-hng sĭm sĭ hiuⁿ-cĕⁿ;

    this is a very retired spot. ​
* 休hiuⁿ21094
* Quit; cease; repudiate.

#### m̄ khéng kang-hiuⁿ;

    would not quit.

#### m̄ kang-hiuⁿ;

    unceasing.

#### bw̄n sṳ̄ to hiuⁿ lío;

    all affairs have come to a stand still.

#### hiuⁿ chi;

    a divorced wife.

#### hiuⁿ cṳ;

    bill of separation.

#### i cē tàⁿ cū tàⁿ m̄ hiuⁿ;

    if he once begins to talk he will never cease talking.

#### lṳ́ hiuⁿ thî-khí cí kĭaⁿ sṳ̄;

    don't you mention this matter.

#### hiuⁿ sĭeⁿ;

    repudiate the thought.

#### tṳ̂ sí huang hiuⁿ;

    nothing but death shall cause me to desist.
* 悠hiuⁿ1110617
* Reiterated.

#### cía sǹg sĭ hiuⁿ-hiuⁿ hùam-hùam kâi ṳ̄e;

    this is mere twaddle.
* 朽híuⁿ211752
* Rotten; decayed; putrescent.

#### híuⁿ bâk m̄-hó̤ tio;

    decayed wood is not good for carvings.

#### bw̄n nî put híuⁿ;

    it will last forever.

#### cē kú cū hu-híuⁿ khṳ̀;

    after a long time it will decompose.

#### khîeh chut lâi, nĕ hu-hu híuⁿ-híuⁿ;

    when it was taken out, it was all rotten.

#### cí kò̤ nêk míen kùi jît cū hu-híuⁿ khṳ̀;

    this piece of meat will become putrid before many days.
* 復hìuⁿ151609
* Again; to recur.

#### ko chīu hìuⁿ seⁿ sún;

    the withered tree again sprouts.

#### hìuⁿ lâi;

    returned; repeated.
* 裘hîuⁿ4161457
* A wadded jacket; winter tunics.

#### phûe hîuⁿ;

    a fur coat.

#### koih hîuⁿ;

    a double gown.

#### tn̂g hîuⁿ;

    a long wadded tunic.

#### hîuⁿ thâu;

    a short winter jacket.

#### hâng hîuⁿ;

    a quilted tunic.

#### mîⁿ hîuⁿ;

    a tunic stuffed with cotton.
# Dictionary of the Swatow dialect/hm
### hm

* 呼hm̄221305
* To pant.

#### khùi hm̄-hm̄ chẃn;

    breathes short and quick.

#### hêk kàu hm̄-hm̄-kìe;

    so tired as to pant.

#### thiaⁿ-kìⁿ káu hm̄-hm̄-chẃn;

    heard the dog panting.
# Dictionary of the Swatow dialect/him
### him

* 歆him205769
* To quicken.

#### him-ĭen;

    to long for.

#### i-thóiⁿ tîeh sĭm sĭ him-ĭen;

    he longs for it as soon as he sees it.

#### him-ĭen i kâi mûeh-kĭaⁿ;

    coveted his things.

#### i bô̤ him-ĭen cí kâi;

    he has no great desire for this.
* 禁hìm4001138
* To shut off the air; to smother.

#### hìm huang;

    to keep off the wind.

#### hìm au;

    a covered cup.

#### hṳ́ pâng lăi khah hìm khùi;

    the room is too close.

#### cí kâi lêng-sn̂g-kùa kū lío, khàm lío hìm m̄ miⁿ;

    the cover of this steamer is worn out, and it does not shut the contents in closely when it is put on.
* 熊hîm2148610
* A bear.

#### nŏ̤ ciah hîm;

    two bears.

#### cí kâi suaⁿ sĭm-mih hîm hóⁿ pà piu to̤ ŭ;

    in this mountain there are bears, tigers leopards and panthers.

#### hîm cíeⁿ;

    a bear's paw.

#### hîm táⁿ;

    bear's gall.

#### sĭ nâng-hîm a sĭ káu-hîm?

    Is it the brown bear, or the small white-necked bear?
* 睚hîm21098
* To stare at threateningly; to look at angrily.

#### i kâi hîm i mih sṳ̄?

    Why does he look so angrily at her?

#### nŏ̤ nâng tó̤ sie hîm;

    the two glare at each other.

#### lṳ́ m̄ hîm i, cò̤ cai i hîm lṳ́?

    If you were not staring at him, how did you know he was staring at you?
# Dream Tales and Prose Poems/Poems in Prose/The Skulls

THE SKULLS
A sumptuous, brilliantly lighted hall; a number of ladies and gentlemen.
All the faces are animated, the talk is lively. . . . A noisy conversation is being carried on about a famous singer. They call her divine, immortal. . . . O, how finely yesterday she rendered her last trill!
And suddenly—as by the wave of an enchanter's wand—from every head and from every face, slipped off the delicate covering of ​skin, and instantaneously exposed the deadly whiteness of skulls, with here and there the leaden shimmer of bare jaws and gums.
With horror I beheld the movements of those jaws and gums; the turning, the glistening in the light of the lamps and candles, of those lumpy bony balls, and the rolling in them of other smaller balls, the balls of the meaningless eyes.
I dared not touch my own face, dared not glance at myself in the glass.
And the skulls turned from side to side as before. . . . And with their former noise, peeping like little red rags out of the grinning teeth, rapid tongues lisped how marvellously, how inimitably the immortal . . . yes, immortal . . . singer had rendered that last trill!
April 1878.
# Dream Tales and Prose Poems/Poems in Prose/The Sphinx

THE SPHINX
Yellowish-grey sand, soft at the top, hard, grating below . . . sand without end, where ever one looks.
And above this sandy desert, above this sea of dead dust, rises the immense head of the Egyptian sphinx.
What would they say, those thick, projecting lips, those immutable, distended, upturned nostrils, and those eyes, those long, half-drowsy, half-watchful eyes under the double arch of the high brows?
Something they would say. They are speaking, truly, but only Œdipus can solve the riddle and comprehend their mute speech.
Stay, but I know those features ... in them there is nothing Egyptian. White, low brow, prominent cheek-bones, nose short and straight, handsome mouth and white teeth, soft moustache and curly beard, and those wide-set, not large eyes . . . and on the head the cap of hair parted down the middle. . . . But it is thou, Karp, Sidor, Semyon, peasant of Yaroslav, of Ryazan, my countryman, flesh and blood, Russian! Art thou, too, among the sphinxes?
Wouldst thou, too, say somewhat? Yes, and thou, too, art a sphinx.
​And thy eyes, those colourless, deep eyes, are speaking too . . . and as mute and enigmatic is their speech.
But where is thy Œdipus?
Alas! it's not enough to don the peasant smock to become thy Œdipus, oh Sphinx of all the Russias!
    Dec. 1878.
# Dream Tales and Prose Poems/Poems in Prose/The Stone

II
[1879-1882]
THE STONE
Have you seen an old grey stone on the seashore, when at high tide, on a sunny day of spring, the living waves break upon it on all sides—break and frolic and caress it—and sprinkle over its sea-mossed head the scattered pearls of sparkling foam?
The stone is still the same stone; but its sullen surface blossoms out into bright colours. They tell of those far-off days when the molten granite had but begun to harden, and was all aglow with the hues of fire.
Even so of late was my old heart surrounded, broken in upon by a rush of fresh girls' souls . . . and under their caressing touch it flushed with long-faded colours, the traces of burnt-out fires!
The waves have ebbed back . . . but the colours are not yet dull, though a cutting wind is drying them.
May 1879.
# Dream Tales and Prose Poems/Poems in Prose/To-Morrow! To-Morrow!

TO-MORROW! TO-MORROW!
How empty, dull, and useless is almost every day when it is spent! How few the traces it leaves behind it! How meaningless, how foolish those hours as they coursed by one after another!
And yet it is man's wish to exist; he prizes life, he rests hopes on it, on himself, on the future. . . . Oh, what blessings he looks for from the future!
But why does he imagine that other coming days will not be like this day he has just lived through?
Nay, he does not even imagine it. He likes not to think at all, and he does well.
'Ah, to-morrow, to-morrow!' he comforts himself, till 'to-morrow' pitches him into the grave.
Well, and once in the grave, thou hast no choice, thou doest no more thinking.
May 1879.
# Dream Tales and Prose Poems/Poems in Prose/Thou shalt hear

​ 'THOU SHALT HEAR THE FOOL'S JUDGMENT . . :— PUSHKIN
'Thou shalt hear the fool's judgment . . .'
You always told the truth, О great singer of ours. You spoke it this time, too.
'The fool's judgment and the laughter of the crowd ' . . . who has not known the one and the other?
All that one can, and one ought to bear; and who has the strength, let him despise it!
But there are blows which pierce more cruelly to the very heart. ... A man has done all that he could ; has worked strenuously, lovingly, honestly. . . . And honest hearts turn from him in disgust ; honest faces burn with indignation at his name. 'Be gone! Away with you!' honest young voices scream at him. 'We have no need of you, nor of your work. You pollute our dwelling-places. You know us not and understand us not. . . . You are our enemy!'
What is that man to do? Go on working; not try to justify himself, and not even look forward to a fairer judgment.
At one time the tillers of the soil cursed the traveller who brought the potato, the substitute for bread, the poor man's daily food. . . . They ​shook the precious gift out of his outstretched hands, flung it in the mud, trampled it underfoot.
Now they are fed with it, and do not even know their benefactor's name.
So be it! What is his name to them? He, nameless though he be, saves them from hunger.
Let us try only that what we bring should be really good food.
Bitter, unjust reproach on the lips of those you love. . . . But that, too, can be borne. . . .
'Beat me! but listen!' said the Athenian leader to the Spartan.
'Beat me! but be healthy and fed!' we ought to say.
February 1878.
# Dream Tales and Prose Poems/Poems in Prose/To the Memory of U. P. Vrevsky

TO THE MEMORY OF U. P. VREVSKY
On dirt, on stinking wet straw under the shelter of a tumble-down barn, turned in haste ​into a camp hospital, in a ruined Bulgarian village, for over a fortnight she lay dying of typhus.
She was unconscious, and not one doctor even looked at her; the sick soldiers, whom she had tended as long as she could keep on her legs, in their turn got up from their pestilent litters to lift a few drops of water in the hollow of a broken pot to her parched lips.
She was young and beautiful; the great world knew her; even the highest dignitaries had been interested in her. Ladies had envied her, men had paid her court . . . two or three had loved her secretly and truly. Life had smiled on her; but there are smiles that are worse than tears.
A soft, tender heart . . . and such force, such eagerness for sacrifice! To help those who needed help . . . she knew of no other happiness . . . knew not of it, and had never once known it. Every other happiness passed her by. But she had long made up her mind to that; and all aglow with the fire of unquenchable faith, she gave herself to the service of her neighbours.
What hidden treasure she buried there in the depth of her heart, in her most secret soul, no one ever knew; and now, of course, no one will ever know. ​Ay, and what need? Her sacrifice is made . . . her work is done.
But grievous it is to think that no one said thanks even to her dead body, though she herself was shy and shrank from all thanks.
May her dear shade pardon this belated blossom, which I make bold to lay upon her grave!
September 1878.
# Dream Tales and Prose Poems/Poems in Prose/The Russian Tongue

THE RUSSIAN TONGUE
In days of doubt, in days of dreary musings on my country's fate, thou alone art my stay and support, mighty, true, free Russian speech! But for thee, how not fall into despair, seeing all that is done at home? But who can think that such a tongue is not the gift of a great people!
June 1882.
THE END