OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Walton, Frederick Thomas Granville

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​Walton, Frederick Thomas Granville, C.I.E. (1888), Chief Engineer; s. of late William Walton of Hampton, Middlesex; b. 1840; studied under Richard Johnson, the famous Engineer; Assistant Engineer in the construction of joining Cheshire Railways till 1860; Oudh and Rohilkand Railways, India, 1868-88; in charge of Ram Ganga River Bridge and Lines; in charge of Dufterin Bridge over the Ganges at Benares, 1881-87; elected M.I.C.E., 1886; Engineer-in-Chief, Oudh and Rohilkand Railways, 1889-96; Bridge construction over Godavari River, at Rajahmundry, 1896-1900; has also built the following other bridges:- Raingunga. Bareilly, Moradabad, and Kosi Rampur. m. Charlotte Eliza, 2nd d. of Sir Cusack Roney, 1877. Address: c/o Messrs. Grindlay and Co., 54, Parliament Street, S.W.
# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Ward, Major-General Francis William

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​Ward, Major-General Francis William, C.B., (1894), Commandant; s. of late John Ward; b. 1840; educ: Addiscombe; entered Bengal Artillery, 1857; served in Indian Mutiny, 1857-58; N.W. Frontier of India Campaign. 1863-64; Afghan War, 1879-80; Colonel on Staff Commanding the Royal Artillery, Punjab; became Major-General, 1895; Colonel Commandant, 1902; m. 1862, Alice, d. of late General S. F. MacMullen of the Bengal Cavalry, 1862. Address: 28, Bishham Gardens, Highgate, N.W. Club: Army and Navy.
# The Lover's Songster/Oh! no, my Love, no

From the musical Of Age To-morrow (1812).
Oh! no, my Love, no.
WHILE I hang on your bosom, distracted to lose you,
High swells my sad heart, and fast my tears flow,
Yet think not of coldness they fall to accuse you,
Did I ever upbraid you—Oh! no, my Love, no.
I own it would please me at home could you tarry,
Nor e'er feel a wish from Maria to go?
But if it give pleasure to you, my dear Harry,
Shall I blame your departure?—Oh! no, my love, no.
Now do not, dear Hal, while abroad you are straying,
That heart which is mine on a rival bestow;
Nay, banish that frown, such displeasure betraying,
Do you think I suspect you?—Oh! no, my love, no.
I believe you too kind for one moment to grieve me,
Or plant in a heart which adores you such woe;
Yet would you dishonour my truth and deceive me,
Should I e'er cease to love you?—Oh! no my love, no,
# The Lover's Songster/Love and Glory

Love and Glory.
YOUNG Henry was as brave a youth
As ever grac'd a martial story;
And Jane was fair as lovely truth:
She sigh'd for love, and he for glory.
With her his faith he meant to plight,
And told her many a gallant story;
Till war, their honest joys to blight,
Call'd him away from love to glory.
Brave Henry met the foe with pride;
Jane follow'd, fought—ah! hapless story!
In man's attire, by Henry's side,
She died for love, and he for glory.
# The Lover's Songster/My Pretty Brunette

My Pretty Brunette.
DEAR Nancy, I've sail'd the wide world around,
And seven long years been a rover,
To make for my charmer each shilling a pound,
But now my hard perils are over.
I've sav'd from my toils many hundreds in gold,
The comforts of life to beget:
Have born in each climate the heat and the cold,
And all for my pretty Brunette.
Then say my sweet girl, can you love me?
Though others may boast of more riches than mine
And rate my attractions e'en fewer,
At their jeers and ill nature I'll scorn to repine,
Can they boast of a heart that is truer?
Or will they for thee plough the hazardous main,
Brave the seasons both stormy and wet?
If not, why I'll do it again and again,
And all for my pretty Brunette.
Then say, my sweet girl, &c.
When order'd afar, in pursuit of a foe,
I sigh at the bodings of fancy,
Which fain would persuade me I might be laid low,
And, ah! never more see my Nancy!
But hope, like an angel, soon banish'd the thought,
And bade me such nonsense forget;
I took the advice, and undauntedly fought,
And all for my pretty Brunette.
Then say, my sweet girl, &c.
FINIS.
# The Lover's Songster/O Stay, my Love

From the play The Glorious First of June (1794).
O Stay, my Love.
O STAY, my love! my William, dear! Ah! whither art thou flying? Nor think'st, thou of my parents here, Nor heed'st thy Susan's sighing? Thy country's cause and honour's call, Are words that but deceive thee: Thou seest my tears, how fast they fall— Thou must not, William! leave me.
Who'll o'er them watch, if thus we part, In sickness or in sorrow? In some cold shed, with breaking heart, Where will they comfort borrow; Neglected left, no William nigh, To cheer, protect, relieve them; I helpless thrown aside to die: Thou must not, William! leave them.
Ah! me—and think a summer flown, Perhaps we part for ever; The fondest hearts that e'er were known, Unpitying death will sever. Then why e'er waste or throw away? 'Twill pass too soon, believe me, Our day of love, our little day— Thou must not, William! leave me.
# The Lover's Songster/Just Like Love

Published with the title "Rondeau" in Poems, from the Portuguese of Luis de Camoens (1808), though the original source is unclear.
Just Like Love.
JUST like love is yonder rose,
Heavenly fragrance round it throws;
Yet tears its dewy leaves disclose,
And in the midst of briars it blows,
Just like love.
Cull'd to bloom upon the breast,
Since rude thorns the stem invest,
They must be gather'd with the rest,
And with it to the heart be press'd,
Just like love.
And when rude hands the twin buds sever,
They die—and they shall blossom never,
—Yet, the thorns be sharp as ever,
Just like love.
# The Lover's Songster/My Mary Dear, &c.

My Mary Dear, &c.
THOU ling'ring star, with less'ning ray,
That lov'st to greet the early morn,
Again thou usher'st in the day
My Mary from my soul was torn.
O Mary, dear departed shade!
Where is thy place of blissful rest?
See'st thou thy lover lowly laid?
Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?
That sacred hour can I forget?
Can I forget the hallow'd grove,
Where, by the winding Ayr, we met,
To live one day of parting love?
Eternity can ne'er efface
Those records dear of transport past;
Thy image, at our last embrace,
Ah! little thought we 'twas our last.
Ayr, gurgling, kiss'd its pebbled shore,
O'erhung with wild-woods thick'ning green;
The fragrant birch, and hawthorn hoar,
Twin'd am'rous round the raptur'd scene
The flowers sprang wanton to be prest:
The birds sang love on ev'ry spray;
Till too, too soon the glowing west
Proclaim'd the speed of winged day.
Still o'er these scenes my mem'ry wakes,
And fondly broods with miser care;
Time but the impression stronger makes,
As streams their channels deeper wear. ​My Mary, dear departed shade!
Where is thy place of blissful rest?
See'st thou thy lover lowly laid?
Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?
# The Lover's Songster/Only tell her that I love

Only tell her that I love.
ONLY tell her that I love,
Leave the rest to her and fate,
Some kind planet from above;
Only tell her how I love.
Why, oh why should I despair?
Mercy's painted in her eye:
If she does vouchsafe to hear,
Welcome Hope, and farewell Fear.
Ye zephyrs, on your balmy gale,
Bear to my fair the tender tale.
And whisp'ring softly from above,
Only tell her that I love;
Tell her softly, only tell her that I love.
Only tell her that I love.
# The Lover's Songster/Jessie the Flower o' Dumblane

Jessie the Flower o' Dumblane.
THE sun has gane down o'er the lofty Benlomon',
An' left the red clouds to preside o'er the scene,
While lanely I stray, in the calm simmer gloamin',
To muse on sweet Jessie the Flower o' Dumblane.
How sweet is the briar, wi' its fast saulding blossom,
An' sweet is the birk, wi' its mantle o' green;
Yet sweeter and fairer, and dear to this bosom,
Is lovely young Jessie, the Flower o' Dumblane.
Is lovely, &c.
She's modest as ony, and blythe as she's bonny,
For guileless simplicity marks her its ain:
An' far be the villain, divested of feeling,
Wha'd blight in its bloom the sweet Flower o' Dumblane.
Sing on, thou sweet mavis, thy hymn to the e'ening,
Thou'rt dear to the echoes o' Calderwood glen;
Sae dear to this bosom, sae artless and winning,
Is charming young Jessie, the Flower o' Dumblane.
Is lovely, &c.
How lost were my days till I met wi' my Jessie,
The sports o' the city seem'd foolish and vain,
I ne'er saw a nymph I could ca' my dear lassie,
Till charm'd wi' young Jessie, the Flower o' Dumblane.
Tho' mine were the station of loftieft grandeur,
Amidst its profusion I'd languish in vain,
An' reckon as naething the height o' its splendour,
If wanting sweet Jessie, the Flower o' Dumblane.
If wanting, &c.
# The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 1/Chapter 2

CHAP. II.
—Then, positively, there is nothing in the question that I can see, either good or bad.—Then let me tell you, Sir, it was a very unseasonable question at least,—because it scattered and dispersed the animal spirits, whose business it was to have escorted and gone hand-in-hand with the HOMUNCULUS, and conducted him safe to the place destined for his reception.
The Homunculus, Sir, in how-ever low and ludicrous a light he may appear, in this age of levity, to the eye of folly or prejudice;—to the eye of reason in scientifick research, he stands confess’d—a Being guarded and circumscribed with rights:—The minutest philosophers, ​who by the bye, have the most enlarged understandings, (their souls being inversely as their enquiries) shew us incontestably, That the Homunculus is created by the same hand,—engender’d in the same course of nature,—endowed with the same loco-motive powers and faculties with us:—That he consists, as we do, of skin, hair, fat, flesh, veins, arteries, ligaments, nerves, cartileges, bones, marrow, brains, glands, genitals, humours, and articulations;—is a Being of as much activity,—and, in all senses of the word, as much and as truly our fellow-creature as my Lord Chancellor of England.—He may be benefited, he may be injured,—he may obtain redress; in a word, he has all the claims and rights of humanity, which Tully, Puffendorff, or the best ethick writers ​allow to arise out of that state and relation.
Now, dear Sir, what if any accident had befallen him in his way alone?—or that, thro' terror of it, natural to so young a traveller, my little gentleman had got to his journey’s end miserably spent;—his muscular strength and virility worn down to a thread;—his own animal spirits ruffled beyond description,—and that in this sad disorder’d state of nerves, he had laid down a prey to sudden starts, or a series of melancholy dreams and fancies for nine long, long months together.—I tremble to think what a foundation had been laid for a thousand weaknesses both of body and mind, which no skill of the physician or the philosopher could ever afterwards have set thoroughly to rights.
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# The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 1/Chapter 25

CHAP. XXV.
The wound in my uncle Toby's groin, which he received at the siege of Namur, rendering him unfit for the service, it was thought expedient he should return to England, in order, if possible, to be set to rights.
He was four years totally confined,—part of it to his bed, and all of it to his room; and in the course of his cure, which was all that time in hand, suffer'd unspeakable miseries,—owing to a succession of exfoliations from the oss pubis, and the outward edge of that part of the coxendix called the oss illeum,—both which bones were dismally crush'd, as much by the irregularity of the stone, which I told you was broke off the pa​rapet,—as by its size,—(tho' it was pretty large) which inclined the surgeon all along to think, that the great injury which it had done my uncle Toby's groin, was more owing to the gravity of the stone itself, than to the projectile force of it,—which he would often tell him was a great happiness.
My father at that time was just beginning business in London, and had taken a house;—and as the truest friendship and cordiality subsisted between the two brothers,—and that my father thought my uncle Toby could no where be so well nursed and taken care of as in his own house,—he assign'd him the very best apartment in it.—And what was a much more sincere mark of his affection still, he would never suffer a friend or an acquaintance to step into the house on any ​occasion, but he would take him by the hand, and lead him up stairs to see his brother Toby, and chat an hour by his bed side.
The history of a soldier's wound beguiles the pain of it;—my uncle's visiters at least thought so, and in their daily calls upon him, from the courtesy arising out of that belief, they would frequently turn the discourse to that subject,—and from that subject the discourse would generally roll on to the siege itself.
These conversations were infinitely kind; and my uncle Toby received great relief from them, and would have received much more, but that they brought him into some unforeseen perplexities, which, for three months together, retarded his cure greatly; and if he had ​not hit upon an expedient to extricate himself out of them, I verily believe they would have laid him in his grave.
What these perplexities of my uncle Toby were,—'tis impossible for you to guess;—if you could,—I should blush; not as a relation,—not as a man,—nor even as a woman,—but I should blush as an author; inasmuch as I set no small store by myself upon this very account, that my reader has never yet been able to guess at any thing. And in this, Sir, I am of so nice and singular a humour, that if I thought you was able to form the least judgment or probable conjecture to yourself, of what was to come in the next page,—I would tear it out of my book.
END of the First Volume.
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# The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 1/Chapter 24

CHAP. XXIV.
If I was not morally sure that the reader must be out of all patience for my uncle Toby's character,—I would here previously have convinced him, that there is no instrument so fit to draw such a thing with, as that which I have pitch'd upon.
​A man and his Hobby-Horse, tho' I cannot say that they act and re-act exactly after the same manner in which the soul and body do upon each other: Yet doubtless there is a communication between them of some kind; and my opinion rather is, that there is something in it more of the manner of electrified bodies,—and that by means of the heated parts of the rider, which come immediately into contact with the back of the Hobby-Horse.—by long journies and much friction, it so happens that the body of the rider is at length fill'd as full of Hobby-Horsical matter as it can hold;—so that if you are able to give but a clear description of the nature of the one, you may form a pretty exact notion of the genius and character of the other.
​Now the Hobby-Horse which my uncle Toby always rode upon, was, in my opinion, an Hobby-Horse well worth giving a description of, if it was only upon the score of his great singularity;—for you might have travelled from York to Dover,—from Dover to Penzance in Cornwall, and from Penzance to York back again, and not have seen such another upon the road; or if you had seen such a one, whatever haste you had been in, you must infallibly have stopp'd to have taken a view of him. Indeed, the gait and figure of him was so strange, and so utterly unlike was he, from his head to his tail, to any one of the whole species, that it was now and then made a matter of dispute,—whether he was really a Hobby-Horse or no: But as the Philosopher would use no other argument to the sceptic, who disputed with him against ​the reality of motion, save that of rising up upon his legs, and walking a-cross the room;—so would my uncle Toby use no other argument to prove his Hobby-Horse was a Hobby-Horse indeed, but by getting upon his back and riding him about;—leaving the world after that to determine the point as it thought fit.
In good truth, my uncle Toby mounted him with so much pleasure, and he carried my uncle Toby so well,—that he troubled his head very little with what the world either said or thought about it.
It is now high time, however, that I give you a description of him:—But to go on regularly, I only beg you will give me leave to acquaint you first, how my uncle Toby came by him.
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# The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 1/Chapter 3

CHAP. III.
To my uncle Mr. Toby Shandy do I stand indebted for the preceding anecdote, to whom my father, who was an excellent natural philosopher, and much given to close reasoning upon the smallest matters, had oft, and heavily, complain’d of the injury; but once more particularly, as my uncle Toby well remember’d, upon his observing a most unaccountable obliquity, (as he call’d it) in my manner of setting up my top, and justifying the principles upon which I had done it,—the old gentleman shook his head, and in a tone more expressive by half of sorrow than reproach,—he said his heart all along foreboded, and he saw it verified in this, and from a thousand other observations he had made up​on me, That I should neither think nor act like any other man’s child:—But alas! continued he, shaking his head a second time, and wiping away a tear which was trickling down his cheeks, My Tristram’s misfortunes began nine months before ever he came into the world.
—My mother, who was sitting by, look’d up,—but she knew no more than her backside what my father meant,—but my uncle, Mr. Toby Shandy, who had been often informed of the affair,—understood him very well.
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# The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 1/Chapter 5

CHAP. V.
On the fifth day of November, 1718, which to the æra fixed on, was as near nine kalendar months as any husband could in reason have expected,—was I Tristram Shandy, Gentleman, brought forth into this scurvy and disastrous world of ours.—I wish I had been born in the Moon, or in any of the planets, (except Jupiter or Saturn, because I never could bear cold weather) for it could not well have fared worse with me in any of them (tho' I will not answer for Venus) than it has in this vile, dirty planet of ours,—which o' my conscience, with reverence be it spoken, I take to be made up of the shreds and clippings of the rest;—not but the planet is well enough, provided a man could be born ​in it to a great title or to a great estate; or could any how contrive to be called up to public charges, and employments of dignity or power;—but that is not my case;—and therefore every man will speak of the fair as his own market has gone in it;—for which cause I affirm it over again to be one of the vilest worlds that ever was made;—for I can truly say, that from the first hour I drew my breath in it, to this, that I can now scarce draw it at all, for an asthma I got in scating against the wind in Flanders;—I have been the continual sport of what the world calls Fortune; and though I will not wrong her by saying, She has ever made me feel the weight of any great or signal evil;—yet with all the good temper in the world I affirm it of her, That in every stage of my life, and at every turn and corner where she could ​get fairly at me, the ungracious Duchess has pelted me with a set of as pitiful misadventures and cross accidents as ever small Hero sustained.
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# The History of the Bohemian Persecution/Chapter 102

Chap. 102.
The Reformation of Prachatice.
THe Reformation of the Inhabitants of Prachatice (as a little after the Inhabitants of Pisek) was begun in bloud. For when the Citizens with a small-force couragiously resisted for three dayes the Imperiall Army passing that way, then being about to yield themselves, they came down from the walls and forts, and prepared to carry out the keys, the enemy furiously assaulting the gate, broke it open, and first kil’d the Maior of the City, bringing the keyes, and then other men whom they met, and the youth; that within three houres one thousand six hundred and sixty Citizens were slain; scarce ten, whom slight or some deeper lurking place had saved from their fury. It was a fearfull spectacle to see carcases thrown about through the streets and houses, exceedingly dirty, and shamefully naked: neither was there any one for some dayes to bury the dead bodies. At length two pious Matrons Christina and Benigna (sifters of Alexander Rumpalius a Citizen and Alderman of Prague) put to their hands, and bring their husbands, and Maximilian Rumpalius their brother (an Alderman) to the ​grave which they had digg’d with their own hands, and cover them with earth, perswading those that remained with their example and speech to the imitation of their piety.
2. This City when it begun again to be inhabited by the Survivers, and others flocking from other places, the Emperour gave to the Prince of Eckenberg, together with the Towns subjet to it Baworow and Strunkonitz, and all the Villages. In the year 1625. it was promised them by the Commissioners of reformation, that if they would become Catholicks, their Liberty, Priviledges, and Towns, with the Villages, should be restored. They refusing, were prohibited from their works and trades; and so put the disobedient persons, men, women, sonnes and daughters, in divers prisons, and miserably afflicted them four whole moneths, At length being made Catholicks, nothing was restored to them, that there might not want a testimony that these bloudy promisers were his progeny, who promiseth all things, and performeth nothing.
3. But what need we relate more? It is sufficiently apparent by these, how wickedly, cruelly, and impudently they proceeded against free-men. For whatsoever was done with the other free Cities, not mentioned here, was made up of the same impostures, deceits, tyranny, and impudence. ​We shall adde some examples how they handled the mixt multitude.
# The History of the Bohemian Persecution/Chapter 10

Chap. X.
The Martyrs of Tabor.
1 BUt some things are to be discoursed of more briefly in respect of places and persons and distinctly it must be opened, how the Roman faction being incited by the Antichristian alarum of Martine did persecute the faithfull.
2 When after the death of Wensislaus in the yeare 1419, Sygismund took the Kingdom, and by his Delegates (he not being present there, till he came after with an army) ordered severall things which did streighten the liberty of their consciences, some thousands of those that imbraced the pure Religion, gathered together to a stony mountaine, ten miles from Prague, which they named Tabor, that mountaine they compassed about with a wall, and constituted a common-wealth determining to defend it by armes if need were.
3. The Papists and those that were called Calikstins, being enraged against them, persecuted them all manner of ways: & first when they sent their Embassadors, Gallus Perstenus, and Mathias Blacils, for peace sake, to Cuttenburg, thess men were cast headlong into the most deepe mines of mettall, but the Cuttenburghians, who were devoted to the Emperor, and for the most part the Germaine nation, ​because of the working in the mines; not long after John Codeck Minister of Gurim, which had admitted the Emperors party and many others, both Priests and Lay people were thus served, for they bought those of Tabor, giving five florence for a Priest and one for a Laick, which was the cause of horrid butchery.
4. Thurmenus does witnesse that which followes to be found in a certaine manuscript, in the year 1420, ther were cast in at Cuttenburg in the first mine about 1700. in the second 1038, in the third 1334. therefore every year in the 18. of April there was a solemne meeting at that place, (where a Church as yet stands) and commemorations were usually made of the Martyrs to the year 1613. which Woresowetz the chiefe master of the mint did in vaine endeavour to hinder, at length it seased, in yeare 1621. when persecution prevailed.