OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# This side the Styx

Naked and shivering, how the oozy tide Affrights me, waiting! Yonder boatman there Is dull and moveless as the very stones That fringe the infernal river. Woe is me! All that I had, departed, and this state Of aimless wandering on the farther shore Is scarcely better than the life of forms I see around me. Huge, deformèd toads, Yellow and dripping monsters, loathsome plants Dropping their blotched leaves in the reeking slime. This is the land of Death in very truth. The imprisoned air bears not my trembling voice To shapes, my comrades in the upper life, To those that sate and laughed with me of old, Alas, how altered! Tullius Quæstor there Stands solitary, he that lovèd mirth, And drank the unmixed wine till morning came With me, how often! Is that Poetus, Mine ancient enemy? O Gods! he comes Beating the dead air with his outstretched palms In silent supplication. Now his mouth Is shaping words, and yet there comes no sound: And now he passes in the drifting mist, A shadow amid shadows. I alone Retain a lasting form, or seem to do. Claudius Herminius, once a trusty friend, Is fleeting like the others. Is there none To stay and give me peace? Ixion now Had eased me, for he beareth greater pain; But all alone upon these crumbling banks, False as the world I left, how shall I be, Or rather case from being? Could I lose My soul, sensation, all that makes me, I, Oblivion were thrice blessèd. Lo! the boat Is moving toward me—now at least is change. Slowly, oh! slowly parts the stagnant flood, And slow as is repentance, Charon rows!
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published in 1881, before the cutoff of January 1, 1929.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1936, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 87 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
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# Thistle-Down

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Thistle-Down."
* 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.
* Thistle-Down, a poem by Richard Watson Gilder
* Thistle-Down, a poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
# Tho' I get home how late—how late—

* "The Return" in Poems: Second Series (1891)
* "Though I get home how late, how late!" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)
# This is the place they hoped before

This is the place they hoped before, Where I am hoping now. The seed of disappointment grew Within a capsule gay, Too distant to arrest the feet That walk this plank of balm — Before them lies escapeless sea — The way is closed they came.
# This quiet Dust was Gentleman and Ladies

This quiet Dust was Gentleman and Ladies And Lads and Girls — Was laughter and ability and Sighing And Frocks and Curls.
This Passive Place a Summer's nimble mansion Where Bloom and Bees Exists an Oriental Circuit Then cease, like these —
# This was in the White of the Year—

This was in the White of the Year — That — was in the Green — Drifts were as difficult then to think As Daisies now to be seen —
Looking back is best that is left Or if it be — before — Retrospection is Prospect's half, Sometimes, almost more.
# This is the Way the Ladies Ride

English nursery rhyme (Roud 19901)
* "The Lady's Ride" in "Children's Amusements" by Walter Gregor (The Folk-Lore Journal, 1886)
** this page includes 13 variant versions
* "This is the way the ladies ride" in A Book of Nursery Rhymes by Charles Welsh (1901)
* "How They Ride" in The Nursery Rhymes of Mother Goose by Arthur Rackham (St. Nicholas, 1913)
# This—is the land—the Sunset washes—

* "The Sea of Sunset" in Poems (1890)
* "This is the land the sunset washes" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)
# The Zoologist/4th series, vol 1 (1897)/Issue 668

Contents :
| | | PAGE |
| Lewis, A.L. | Neolithic Life in Devon and Cornwall | 49 |
| Southwell, T. | Notes on the Seal and Whale Fishery, 1896 | 56 |
| Salter, J.H. | Ornithological Notes from the Rhine | 61 |
| Ralfe, P. | On Manx Bird-names | 71 |
| Severin, G. | Museum Reports-I: Musée Royal d'Histoire Naturelle de Belgique: Brussels | 80 |
| | Notes and Queries | 83 |
| | Notices of New Books | 90 |
| | Editorial Gleanings | 95 |
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 12/From John Gay to Jonathan Swift - 8

FROM MR. GAY.
I BELIEVE it is now my turn to write to you, though Mr. Pope has taken all I have to say, and put it into a long letter, which is sent too by Mr. Stopford: but however, I could not omit this occasion of thanking you for his acquaintance. I do not know whether I ought to thank you or not, considering I have lost him so soon, though he has given me some hopes of seeing him again in the summer. He will give you an account of our negotiations together; and I may now glory in my success, since I could contribute to his. We dined together to day at the doctor's, who, with me, was in high delight upon an information Mr. Stopford gave us, that we are likely to see you soon. My ​fables are printed; but I cannot get my plates finished, which hinders the publication. I expect nothing, and am like to get nothing. It is needless to write, for Mr. Stopford can acquaint you of my affairs more fully than I can in a letter. Mrs. Howard desires me to make her compliments: she has been in an ill state as to her health all this winter, but I hope is somewhat better. I have been very much out of order myself for the most part of the winter: upon my being let blood last week, my cough and my headach are much better. Mrs. Blount always asks after you. I refused supping at Burlington house to night, in regard to my health; and this morning I walked two hours in the park. Bowrie told me this morning, that Pope had a cold, and that Mrs. Pope is pretty well. The contempt of the world grows upon me, and I now begin to be richer and richer; for I find I could, every morning I awake, be content with less than I aimed at the day before. I fancy, in time, I shall bring myself into that state which no man ever knew before me. In thinking I have enough, I really am afraid to be content with so little, lest my good friends should censure me for indolence, and the want of laudable ambition, so that it will be absolutely necessary for me to improve my fortune to content them. How solicitous is mankind to please others! Pray give my sincere service to Mr. Ford. Dear sir, yours most affectionately,
J. GAY.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 12/From John Gay to Jonathan Swift - 22

FROM MR. GAY.
I HOPE this unlucky accident of hurting your leg will not prevent your coming to us this spring, though you say nothing about it. All your friends expect it, and particularly my landlord and landlady, who are my friends as much as ever; and I should not think them so, if they were not as much yours. The downs of Amesbury are so smooth, that neither horse nor man can hardly make a wrong step, so that you may take your exercise with us with greater security. If you prevail with the duchess to ride and walk with you, you will do her good; but that is a motive I could never prevail with her to comply with. I wish you would try whether your oratory could get over this difficulty. General Dormer, sir Clement Cotterell, and I, set out to morrow morning for Rousham, in Oxfordshire, to stay ten days or a fortnight. The duchess will undertake to recommend the lords of her acquaintance to attend Mr. Ryves's cause, if it should come on before our return: the duke will do the same. Her grace too has undertaken to answer your letter. I have not disposed of ​your South Sea bonds; there is a year's interest due at Ladyday. Were I to dispose of them at present, I should lose a great deal of the premium I paid for them: perhaps they may fall lower, but I cannot prevail with myself to sell them. The rogueries that have been discovered in some other companies, I believe, make them all have less credit. I find myself dispirited, for want of having some pursuit. Indolence and idleness are the most tiresome things in the world. I begin to find a dislike to society. I think I ought to try to break myself of it, but I cannot resolve to set about it. I have left off almost all my great acquaintance, which saves me something in chair hire, though in that article the town is still very expensive. Those who were your old acquaintance, are almost the only people I visit; and indeed, upon trying all, I like them best. Lord Cornbury refused the pension that was offered him; he is chosen to represent the university of Oxford, in the room of Mr. Bromley, without opposition. I know him, and I think he deserves it. He is a young nobleman of learning and morals, which is so particular, that I know you will respect and value him; and, to my great comfort, he lives in our family. Mr. Pope is in town, and in good health. I lately passed a week with him, at Twickenham. I must leave the rest to the duchess; for I must pack up my shirts, to set out to morrow, being the 14th of March, being the day after I received your letter. If you would advise the duchess to confine me four hours a day to my own room, while I am in the country, I will write; for, I cannot confine myself as I ought.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 12/From John Gay to Jonathan Swift - 3

FROM MR. GAY.
AFTER every postday, for these eight or nine years, I have been troubled with an uneasiness of spirit, and at last, I have resolved to get rid of it, and write to you. I do not deserve you should think so well of me as I really deserve; for I have not professed to you, that I love you as much as ever I did: but you are the only person of my acquaintance almost that does not know it. Whomever I see that comes from Ireland, the first question I ask ​is after your health; of which I had the pleasure to hear very lately from Mr. Berkeley. I think of you very often: nobody wishes you better, or longs more to see you. Duke Disney, who knows more news than any man alive, told me I should certainly meet you at the Bath this season: but I had one comfort in being disappointed, that you did not want it for your health. I was there for near eleven weeks for a colick, that I have been often troubled with of late; but have not found all the benefit I expected.
I lodge, at present, in Burlington house, and have received many civilities from many great men, but very few real benefits. They wonder at each other for not providing for me; and I wonder at them all. Experience has given me some knowledge of them; so that I can say, that it is not in their power to disappoint me. You find I talk to you of myself; I wish you would reply in the same manner. I hope, though you have not heard of me so long, I have not lost my credit with you; but that you will think of me in the same manner, as when you espoused my cause so warmly, which my gratitude never can forget. I am, dear sir, your most obliged, and sincere humble servant,
J. GAY.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 12/From John Gay to Jonathan Swift - 21

FROM MR. GAY.
IT is now past nine o'clock. I deferred sitting down to write to you, in expectation to have seen Mr. Pope, who left me two or three hours again to try to find lord Burlington, within whose walls I have not been admitted this year and a half; but for what reason I know not. Mr. Pope is just this minute come in, but had not the good luck to find him; so that I cannot give you any satisfaction in the affair you writ last about. He designs to see him to morrow; and if any thing can be done, he says you shall hear from him.
By the beginning of my letter you see how I decline in favour; but I look upon it as my particular distinction, that as soon as the court gains a man, ​I lose him. It is a mortification I have been used to, so I bear it as a philosopher should.
The letter which you writ to me and the duke I received; and Mr. Pope showed me that directed to him, which gave me more pleasure than all the letters you have writ since I saw you, as it gives me hopes of seeing you soon.
Were I to acquaint the duke and duchess of my writing, I know that they would have something to say to you, and perhaps would prevent my sending the letter this post, so I choose to say nothing about it. You are in great favour and esteem with all those that love me, which is one great reason that I love and esteem them.
Whenever you will order me to turn your fortune into ready money, I will obey you; but I choose to leave it where it is till you want it, as it carries some interest; though it might be now sold to some advantage, and is liable to rises and falls with the other stocks. It may be higher as well as lower; so I will not dispose of it till I hear from you. I am impatient to see you, so are all your friends. You have taken your resolution, and I shall henceforth every week expect an agreeable surprise. The belman rings for the letter, so I can say no more.
# The poetical works of Matthew Arnold/Austerity of Poetry

AUSTERITY OF POETRY
That son of Italy who tried to blow, Ere Dante came, the trump of sacred song, In his light youth amid a festal throng Sate with his bride to see a public show.
Fair was the bride, and on her front did glow Youth like a star; and what to youth belong,— Gay raiment, sparkling gauds, elation strong. A prop gave way! crash fell a platform! Lo,
Mid struggling sufferers, hurt to death, she lay! Shuddering, they drew her garments off—and found A robe of sackcloth next the smooth, white skin.
Such, poets, is your bride, the Muse! young, gay, Radiant, adorned outside; a hidden ground Of thought and of austerity within.
# The poetical works of Matthew Arnold/Calais Sands

CALAIS SANDS.
A thousand knights have reined their steeds To watch this line of sand-hills run, Along the never-silent strait, To Calais glittering in the sun;
To look toward Ardres' Golden Field Across this wide aërial plain, Which glows as if the Middle Age Were gorgeous upon earth again.
Oh, that to share this famous scene, I saw, upon the open sand, Thy lovely presence at my side,— Thy shawl, thy look, thy smile, thy hand!
How exquisite thy voice would come, My darling, on this lonely air! How sweetly would the fresh sea-breeze Shake loose some band of soft brown hair!
Yet now my glance but once hath roved O'er Calais and its famous plain; To England's cliffs my gaze is turned, O'er the blue strait mine eyes I strain.
Thou comest! Yes! the vessel's cloud Hangs dark upon the rolling sea. Oh that yon sea-bird's wings were mine, To win one instant's glimpse of thee!
I must not spring to grasp thy hand, To woo thy smile, to seek thine eye; But I may stand far off, and gaze, And watch thee pass unconscious by,—
​And spell thy looks, and guess thy thoughts, Mixed with the idlers on the pier. Ah! might I always rest unseen, So I might have thee always near!
To-morrow hurry through the fields Of Flanders to the storied Rhine! To-night those soft-fringed eyes shall close Beneath one roof, my queen! with mine.
# The poetical works of Matthew Arnold/Courage

COURAGE.
True, we must tame our rebel will: True, we must bow to Nature's law: Must bear in silence many an ill; Must learn to wail, renounce, withdraw.
Yet now, when boldest wills give place, When Fate and Circumstance are strong, And in their rush the human race Are swept, like huddling sheep, along:
Those sterner spirits let me prize, Who, though the tendence of the whole They less than us might recognize, Kept, more than us, their strength of soul.
Yes, be the second Cato prais'd! Not that he took the course to die— But that, when 'gainst himself he rais'd His arm, he rais'd it dauntlessly.
And, Byron! let us dare admire If not thy fierce and turbid song, Yet that, in anguish, doubt, desire, Thy fiery courage still was strong.
The sun that on thy tossing pain Did with such cold derision shine, He crush'd thee not with his disdain— He had his glow, and thou hadst thine.
​Our bane, disguise it as we may, Is weakness, is a faltering course. Oh that past times could give our day, Join'd to its clearness, of their force!
# The poetical works of Matthew Arnold/A Wish

A WISH.
I ask not that my bed of death From bands of greedy heirs be free; For these besiege the latest breath Of fortune's favored sons, not me.
I ask not each kind soul to keep Tearless, when of my death he hears. Let those who will, if any, weep! There are worse plagues on earth than tears.
I ask but that my death may find The freedom to my life denied; Ask but the folly of mankind Then, then at last, to quit my side.
Spare me the whispering, crowded room, The friends who come, and gape, and go; The ceremonious air of gloom,— All which makes death a hideous show!
Nor bring, to see me cease to live, Some doctor full of phrase and fame, To shake his sapient head, and give The ill he cannot cure a name.
Nor fetch, to take the accustomed toll Of the poor sinner bound for death, His brother-doctor of the soul, To canvass with official breath
​The future and its viewless things,— That undiscovered mystery Which one who feels death's winnowing wings Must needs read clearer, sure, than he!
Bring none of these; but let me be, While all around in silence lies, Moved to the window near, and see Once more, before my dying eyes,—
Bathed in the sacred dews of morn The wide aërial landscape spread,— The world which was ere I was born, The world which lasts when I am dead;
Which never was the friend of one, Nor promised love it could not give, But lit for all its generous sun, And lived itself, and made us live.
There let me gaze, till I become In soul, with what I gaze on, wed! To feel the universe my home; To have before my mind—instead
Of the sick-room, the mortal strife, The turmoil for a little breath— The pure eternal course of life, Not human combatings with death!
Thus feeling, gazing, might I grow Composed, refreshed, ennobled, clear; Then willing let my spirit go To work or wait elsewhere or here!
# Thom's Irish Who's Who/Fielden, Victor George Leopold

​FIELDEN, Victor George Leopold, M.D. (Q.U.B.), M.B., B.Ch., B.A.O. (R.U.I.); Senior Anæsthetist, Royal Victoria Hospital; Belfast Ophthalmic Hospital, and Ulster Volunteer Force Hospital; Consulting Anæsthetist, Ulster Hospital for Women and Children; Licentiate of Pharmaceutical Society of Ireland; Demonstrator of Materia Medica and Pharmacy; Medical Officer Hampton House Industrial School. Queen's University, Belfast; b. Plymouth, 1867; son of late Immer Fielden, R.N., late Board of Trade Surveyor: m. Caroline Grant, dau. of late Charles Henderson Ward, Solicitor, Belfast, and has issue one son, five daus. Res.: 84 Dublin Road, Belfast.
# Thom's Irish Who's Who/Finlay, Rev. Thomas A.

and contains subsequent article Finlay, Father Thomas, of the same person
​FINLAY, Rev. Thomas A., S.J., M.A., Professor of Political Economy, University College, Dublin; President, University Hall, Dublin; Commissioner of Intermediate Education for Ireland since 1900; Vice-President, Irish Agricultural Organisation Society; b. 1848. Educ.: Cavan College; St. Acheul, Amiens; Gregorian University, Rome; entered Society of Jesus, 1866. Studied in France, Italy, Germany, England; ordained 1881: Rector of Belvedere College, 1882; founder and editor of The Lyceum, 1887. Pubns.: Fiction-Chances of War, etc; School and College Series of School Manuals-History of Philosophy; Logic; Review articles; pamphlets. Address: University Hall, Dublin.
# Thom's Irish Who's Who/Fitz-Simon, Daniel O'Connell

​FITZ-SIMON, Daniel O'Connell; s. his brother, Christopher Jas. O'Connell Fitz-Simon, in Glancullen and Ballinamona property, 1910; third son of late Christopher O'Connell Fitz-Simon, D.L., of Glancullen, Co. Dublin, and Ballinamona, Co. Wicklow, and Agnes Teresa (d. 1888), dau. of Capt. Richard Leyne, of Annagh, Co. Kerry: b. 1872; m. 1896, Alice Maud Bunbury, dau. of Major Lenox MacFarlane, J.P., late 3rd Dragoon Guards, of Moreen, Co. Dublin. Res.: Glancullen, Kilternan, Co. Dublin; Moreen, Dundrum, Co. Dublin.
# Thom's Irish Who's Who/Finny, John Magee

​FINNY, John Magee, B.A., M.D. (Univ. Dublin); Fellow and Past President Royal College Physicians, Ireland; ex-President of Royal Academy of Medicine in Ireland and of the Leinster Branch B.M.A.; ex King's Professor of Practice of Medicine, Trinity College, Dublin; ex-Physician to Sir Patrick Duns Hospital; Consulting Physician to Sir Patrick Dun's Hospital, Mercer's Hospital, Masonic Female Orphan School, Bloomfield Asylum, and Royal Hospital for Incurables, Dublin: Member of Senate, Trinity College, Dublin, and of Board of Superintendence of Dublin Hospitals; Member of the Association of Physicians of Great Britain and Ireland; Visitor in Lunacy; b. 9th Feb., 1841; 3rd son of Rev. T. H. C. Finny, Rector of Clondulane, Co. Cork, and Frances, dau. of William Magee, Archbishop of Dublin; m. 1873, Agnes Anne, dau. of William Watson, Dublin, and has issue four sons, three daus. Pubns.: on various medical subjects, and contributions to British Medical Journal and other journals. Res.: Erith Lodge, Sandymount, Dublin. University Club, Dublin.
# Thom's Irish Who's Who/Figgis, Darrell

​FIGGIS, Darrell; b. in Rathmines, Co. Dublin, 1882; engaged as tea buyer and broker in London and Calcutta, 1898-1910; literary adviser to F. M. Dent & Sons, 1911-1913; dramatic critic. The Academy, London, and Free-Lance Journalist, 1910-1914; Howth gun-running, May, June and July, 1914; lived in Achill, 1914 to 1916; arrested May, 1916, and liberated December, 1916; again arrested February, 1917, escaped May, 1917; arrested May, 1918, liberated April, 1919; Hon. Sec. Sinn Fein, October, 1917 to May, 1919; Editor The Republic June, 1919, to Sept., 1919, when paper was suppressed. Secretary Commission of Inquiry into the Resources and Industries of Ireland, September, 1919, to January, 1922: Acting Chairman of Committee appointed to draft the Constitution of the Irish Free State, January, 1922; returned as T.D., Co. Dublin, June 1922. Pubns.: A Vision of life (poems) 1909; The Crucibles of Time (poems), 1911; Shakespeare: A Study 1911; Broken Axes (a novel), 1911; Studies and Appreciations, 1912; Queen Tara (a play, produced at the Queen's Theatre, Dublin), 1913; Jacob Elthorne (a novel), 1914; The Mount of Transfiguration (poems), 1915; "Æ": A Story of a Man and a Nation. 1916; William Castleton, 1916; A Chronicle of Jails, 1917; The Gaelic State, in the Past and Future, 1917; The Freedom of the Seas, 1917; Children of Earth (a novel), 1917; The Historic Case, for Irish Independence, 1918; Byeways of Study, 1918; A Second Chronicle of Jails, 1919; The Economic Case for Irish Independence, 1920; The House of Success (a novel), 1921; Planning for the Future: an Address before the Architectural Association of Ireland, 1922: The Irish Constitution Explained, 1922. Recns.: golf and chess. Res.: 24 Kildare Street, Dublin; Mullach na gCreagan, Keel, Achill, Co. Mayo.
# Thom's Irish Who's Who/Finlay, Rev. Peter

​FINLAY, Rev. Peter, S.J.; b. 1851. Educ.: St. Patrick's College, Cavan, Amiens, Stonyhurst, Maria Laack. Taught in Limerick and Clongowes Wood Colleges. 1872-8. Studied Theology in Poyanne and Tortosa, 1878-1882; taught Philosophy, Milltown Park, 1882-5; Theology, St. Beuno's, 1882-7; Woodstock, U.S.A., 1887-9; Milltown Park, Dublin, 1889. Professor of Catholic Theology, National University of Ireland, 1912. Pubns.: The Church of Christ; Divine Faith; The Catholic Religion; The Catholic Church and the Civil State; Socialism and Catholic Teaching, &c. Res.: Milltown Park, Dublin.