OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Sonnet 10 (Shakespeare)

One of the 154 sonnets by Shakespeare from the collection Shakespeare's Sonnets (1609).
* "Sonnet 10," in Shake-speares Sonnets, Never before Imprinted (1609)
* "Sonnet 10," in Shakespeare's Sonnets, (ed.) by William J. Rolfe (1883)
* "Sonnet 10," in Shakespeare's Sonnets, (ed.) by Edward Bliss Reed, The Yale Shakespeare (1923)
The Sonnets of William Shakespeare
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
# Sonnet 112

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Sonnet 112."
* 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.
* Sonnet 112, by Ján Kollár
* Sonnet 112, by William Shakespeare.
# Sonnet 11

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Sonnet 11."
* 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.
* Sonnet 11, by William Shakespeare.
* Sonnet 11, by Barnfield
* A sonnet by Petratch

## See also

* Sonnet XI
# Sonnet 109 (Petrarch)

This poem by Petrarch is known as 'Sonnet 109', or as 'Poem CXL' in his Canzoniere. It has been translated many times, and is also known by its first line in the original Italian and in the various translations.

## English translations

* Canzoniere/Poem CXL (contains three translations)

### Wyatt

* The Poems of Sir Thomas Wiat/Volume 1/Sonnets/2, also known as Sir Thomas Wyatt's "Sonnet #2", or by first line "The longe love that in my thought doeth harbar"

### Howard

* Love, that doth reign and live within my thought, translation by Henry Howard

## Original Italian

* The Poems of Sir Thomas Wiat/Volume 2/Appendix A#187
* it:Canzoniere (Rerum vulgarium fragmenta)/Amor, che nel penser mio vive et regna (on the Italian language Wikisource)
# Sonnet 110

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Sonnet 110."
* 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.
* Sonnet 110 (Duna! thou queen of many rivers—thou), translation of the sonnet no. 110 (Canto 3) from 1824 edition of Slávy dcera by Ján Kollár
* Sonnet 110 (What will become of Slavs in hundred years?), translation of the sonnet no. 110 (Canto 3) from 1862 edition of Slávy dcera.
* Sonnet 110, by William Shakespeare.
# Sonnet 110 (Shakespeare)

One of the 154 sonnets by Shakespeare from the collection Shakespeare's Sonnets (1609).
* "Sonnet 110," in Shake-speares Sonnets, Never before Imprinted (1609)
* "Sonnet 110," in Shakespeare's Sonnets, (ed.) by William J. Rolfe (1883)
* "Sonnet 110," in Shakespeare's Sonnets, (ed.) by Edward Bliss Reed, The Yale Shakespeare (1923)
The Sonnets of William Shakespeare
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
# Sonnet 112 (Kollár)

The sonnet 112 from the original 1824 edition of the cycle Slávy dcera (The Daughter of Sláva).
English-language translations of Znělka 112 include:
* "Dear relic of the past! so sweetly fair⁠", in Cheskian Anthology by John Bowring (1832)
* "Dearest relic of my youthful days", in The Soul Of A Century by Roderick Aldrich Ginsburg (1943).
# Songs of a Savoyard/The Duke of Plaza-Toro

From The Gondoliers.
THE DUKE OF PLAZA-TORO.
IN enterprise of martial kind,
When there was any fighting,
He led his regiment from behind,
He found it less exciting.
But when away his regiment ran,
His place was at the fore, O—
That celebrated,
Cultivated,
Underrated
Nobleman,
The Duke of Plaza-Toro!
In the first and foremost flight, ha, ha! You always found that knight, ha, ha!
             That celebrated,
             Cultivated,
             Underrated
                Nobleman,
       The Duke of Plaza-Toro!
When, to evade Destruction's hand,
       To hide they all proceeded,
No soldier in that gallant band
       Hid half as well as he did.
He lay concealed throughout the war,
       And so preserved his gore, O!
             That unaffected.
             Undetected,
             Well connected
                Warrior,
       The Duke of Plaza-Toro!
In every doughty deed, ha, ha! He always took the lead, ha, ha!
             That unaffected.
             Undetected,
             Well connected
                Warrior,
       The Duke of Plaza-Toro!
When told that they would all be shot
       Unless they left the service,
That hero hesitated not,
       So marvellous his nerve is.
He sent his resignation in,
The first of all his corps, O!
That very knowing,
Overflowing,
Easy-going
Paladin,
The Duke of Plaza-Toro!
To men of grosser clay, ha, ha!
He always showed the way, ha, ha That very knowing,
Overflowing,
Easy-going
Paladin,
The Duke of Plaza-Toro!
# Songs of a Savoyard/The Englishman

From H.M.S. Pinafore.
THE ENGLISHMAN.
HE is an Englishman! For he himself has said it, And it's greatly to his credit, That he is an Englishman! For he might have been a Roosian, A French, or Turk or Proosian, Or perhaps Itali-an! But in spite of all temptations, To belong to other nations, He remains an Englishman! Hurrah! For the true born Englishman!
# Songs of a Savoyard/The Highly Respectable Gondolier

From The Gondoliers.
THE HIGHLY RESPECTABLE GONDOLIER.
I STOLE the Prince, and I brought him here,
And left him, gaily prattling
With a highly respectable Gondolier,
Who promised the Royal babe to rear,
And teach him the trade of a timoneer With his own beloved bratling.
Both of the babes were strong and stout,
And, considering all things, clever.
Of that there is no manner of doubt—
No probable, possible shadow of doubt—
No possible doubt whatever.
Time sped, and when at the end of a year
I sought that infant cherished,
That highly respectable Gondolier
Was lying a corpse on his humble bier—
I dropped a Grand Inquisitor's tear—
That Gondolier had perished.
A taste for drink, combined with gout,
Had doubled him up for ever.
Of that there is no manner of doubt—
No probable, possible shadow of doubt—
No possible doubt whatever.
But owing, I'm much disposed to fear,
To his terrible taste for tippling,
That highly respectable Gondolier
Could never declare with a mind sincere
Which of the two was his offspring dear,
And which the Royal stripling !
Which was which he could never make out,
Despite his best endeavour.
Of that there is no manner of doubt—
No probable, possible shadow of doubt—
No possible doubt whatever.
The children followed his old career—
(This statement can't be parried)
Of a highly respectable Gondolier :
Well, one of the two (who will soon be here)—
But which of the two is not quite clear—
Is the Royal Prince you married !
Search in and out and round about
And you'll discover never
A tale so free from every doubt—
All probable, possible shadow of doubt—
All possible doubt whatever !
# Songs of a Savoyard/The Fairy Queen's Song

From Iolanthe.
THE FAIRY QUEEN'S SONG.
OH, foolish fay,
Think you because
Man's brave array
My bosom thaws
I'd disobey
Our fairy laws?
Because I fly
In realms above,
In tendency
To fall in love
Resemble I
The amorous dove?
Oh, amorous dove!
Type of Ovidius Naso!
This heart of mine
Is soft as thine,
Although I dare not say so!
On fire that glows
With heat intense
I turn the hose
Of Common Sense,
And out it goes
At small expense!
We must maintain
Our fairy law;
That is the main
On which to draw— In that we gain
A Captain Shaw.
Oh, Captain Shaw! Type of true love kept under!
Could thy Brigade With cold cascade
Quench my great love, I wonder!
# Songs of a Savoyard/The Family Fool

From The Yeomen of the Guard.
THE FAMILY FOOL.
OH! a private buffoon is a light-hearted loon,
If you listen to popular rumour;
From morning to night he's so joyous and bright,
And he bubbles with wit and good humour!
He's so quaint and so terse, both in prose and in verse;
Yet though people forgive his transgression,
There are one or two rules that all Family Fools
Must observe, if they love their profession.
There are one or two rules
Half a dozen, maybe
That all family fools, Of whatever degree,
Must observe, if they love their profession.
If you wish to succeed as a jester, you'll need
To consider each person's auricular:
What is all right for B would quite scandalize C
(For C is so very particular);
And D may be dull, and E's very thick skull
Is as empty of brains as a ladle;
While F is F sharp, and will cry with a carp,
That he's known your best joke from his cradle!
When your humour they flout,
You can't let yourself go;
And it does put you out
When a person says, "Oh!
I have known that old joke from my cradle!"
If your master is surly, from getting up early
(And tempers are short in the morning),
An inopportune joke is enough to provoke
Him to give you, at once, a month's warning.
Then if you refrain, he is at you again,
For he likes to get value for money.
He'll ask then and there, with an insolent stare,
"If you know that you're paid to be funny?"
It adds to the task
Of a merryman's place,
When your principal asks,
With a scowl on his face,
If you know that you're paid to be funny?
Comes a Bishop, maybe, or a solemn D.D.—
Oh, beware of his anger provoking!
Better not pull his hair—don't stick pins in his chair;
He don't understand practical joking.
If the jests that you crack have an orthodox smack,
You may get a bland smile from these sages;
But should it, by chance, be imported from France,
Half-a-crown is stopped out of your wages!
It's a general rule,
Though your zeal it may quench,
If the Family Fool
Makes a joke that's too French,
Half-a-crown is stopped out of his wages!
Though your head it may rack with a bilious attack,
And your senses with toothache you're losing,
Don't be mopy and flat—they don't fine you for that.
If you're properly quaint and amusing!
Though your wife ran away with a soldier that day,
And took with her your trifle of money;
Bless you heart, they don't mind—they're exceedingly kind—
They don't blame you—as long as you're funny!
It's a comfort to feel
If your partner should flit,
Though you suffer a deal,
They don't mind it a bit—
They don't blame you—so long as you're funny!
# Songs of a Savoyard/The Fickle Breeze

From The Pirates of Penzance.
THE FICKLE BREEZE.
SIGHING softly to the river
Comes the loving breeze,
Setting nature all a-quiver,
Rustling through the trees!
And the brook in rippling measure,
Laughs for very love,
While the poplars, in their pleasure,
Wave their arms above!
River, river, little river,
May thy loving prosper ever.
Heaven speed thee, poplar tree,
May thy wooing happy be!
Yet, the breeze is but a rover.
When he wings away,
Brook and poplar mourn a lover!
Sighing well-a-day!
Ah! the doing and undoing
That the rogue could tell,
When the breeze is out a-wooing,
Who can woo so well?
Pretty brook, thy dream is over,
For thy love is but a rover!
Sad the lot of poplar trees,
Courted by the fickle breeze!
# Songs of a Savoyard/The Ghost's High Noon

From Ruddigore.
THE GHOSTS' HIGH NOON.
WHEN the night wind howls in the chimney cowls, and the bat in the moonlight flies,
And inky clouds, like funeral shrouds, sail over the midnight skies—
When the footpads quail at the night-bird's wail, and black dogs bay the moon,
Then is the spectre's holiday—then is the ghosts' high noon!
As the sob of the breeze sweeps over the trees, and the mists lie low on the fen,
From grey tomb-stones are gathered the bones that once were women and men,
And away they go, with a mop and a mow, to the revel that ends too soon,
For cockcrow limits our holiday—the dead of the night's high noon!
And then each ghost with his ladye-toast to their churchyard beds take flight,
With a kiss, perhaps, on her lantern chaps, and a grisly, grim "good-night";
Till the welcome knell of the midnight bell rings forth its jolliest tune,
And ushers our next high holiday—the dead of the night's high noon!
# Songs of a Savoyard/The Great Oak Tree

From Ruddigore.
THE GREAT OAK TREE.
THERE grew a little flower
'Neath a great oak tree:
When the tempest 'gan to lower
Little heeded she:
No need had she to cower,
For she dreaded not its power—
She was happy in the bower
Of her great oak tree!
Sing hey,
Lackaday!
Let the tears fall free
For the pretty little flower and the great oak tree!
When she found that he was fickle,
Was that great oak tree,
She was in a pretty pickle,
As she well might be—
But his gallantries were mickle,
For Death followed with his sickle,
And her tears began to trickle
For her great oak tree!
Sing hey,
Lackaday
Let the tears fall free
For the pretty little flower and the great oak tree!
Said she, "He loved me never,
Did that great oak tree,
But I'm neither rich nor clever.
And so why should he?
But though fate our fortunes sever,
To be constant I'll endeavour,
Ay, for ever and for ever,
To my great oak tree!"
Sing hey,
Lackaday!
Let the tears fall free
For the pretty little flower and the great oak tree!
# Songs of a Savoyard/The First Lord's Song

From H.M.S. Pinafore.
THE FIRST LORD'S SONG.
WHEN I was a lad I served a term
As office boy to an Attorney's firm.
I cleaned the windows and I swept the floor,
And I polished up the handle of the big front door.
I polished up that handle so successfullee
That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!   As office boy I made such a mark
That they gave me the post of a junior clerk.
I served the writs with a smile so bland,
And I copied all the letters in a big round hand
I copied all the letters in a hand so free,
That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee
In serving writs I made such a name
That an articled clerk I soon became;
I wore clean collars and a brand-new suit
For the Pass Examination at the Institute.
And that Pass Examination did so well for me,
That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!
Of legal knowledge I acquired such a grip
That they took me into the partnership,
And that junior partnership I ween
Was the only ship that I ever had seen.
But that kind of ship so suited me,
That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!
I grew so rich that I was sent
By a pocket borough into Parliament.
I always voted at my party's call,
And I never thought of thinking for myself at all.
I thought so little, they rewarded me.
By making me the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!
Now, landsmen all, whoever you may be,
If you want to rise to the top of the tree,
If your soul isn't fettered to an office stool,
Be careful to be guided by this golden rule—
Stick close to your desks and never go to sea,
And you all may be Rulers of the Queen's Navee!
# Songs of a Savoyard/The Heavy Dragoon

From Patience.
THE HEAVY DRAGOON.
IF you want a receipt for that popular mystery,
Known to the world as a Heavy Dragoon,
Take all the remarkable people in history.
Rattle them off to a popular tune!
The pluck of Lord Nelson on board of the Victory—
Genius of Bismarck devising a plan;
The humour of Fielding (which sounds contradictory)
Coolness of Paget about to trepan—
The grace of Mozart, that unparalleled musico—
Wit of Macaulay, who wrote of Queen Anne—
The pathos of Paddy, as rendered by Boucicault—
Style of the Bishop of Sodor and Man—
The dash of a D'Orsay, divested of quackery—
Narrative powers of Dickens and Thackeray—
Victor Emmanuel—peak-haunting Peveril—
Thomas Aquinas, and Doctor Sacheverell—
Tupper and Tennyson—Daniel Defoe—
Anthony Trollope and Mister Guizot!
Take of these elements all that are fusible,
Melt them all down in a pipkin or crucible,
Set them to simmer and take off the scum,
And a Heavy Dragoon is the residuum!   If you want a receipt for this soldierlike paragon.
Get at the wealth of the Czar (if you can)—
The family pride of a Spaniard from Arragon—
Force of Mephisto pronouncing a ban—
A smack of Lord Waterford, reckless and rollicky—
Swagger of Roderick, heading his clan—
The keen penetration of Paddington Pollaky—
Grace of an Odalisque on a divan—
The genius strategic of Cæsar or Hannibal—
Skill of Lord Wolseley in thrashing a cannibal— Flavour of Hamlet—the Stranger, a touch of him—
Little of Manfred (but not very much of him)—
Beadle of Burlington—Richardson's show—
Mr. Micawber and Madame Tussaud! Take of these elements all that is fusible—
Melt 'em all down in a pipkin or crucible—
Set 'em to simmer and take off the scum,
And a Heavy Dragoon is the residuum!
# Sketches by Mark Twain/A Couple of Poems By Twain and Moore

A COUPLE OF POEMS BY TWAIN AND MOORE.
THOSE EVENING BELLS.
by thomas moore.
Those evening bells! those evening bells! How many a tale their music tells Of youth, and home, and that sweet time When last I heard their soothing chime.
Those joyous hours are passed away; And many a heart that then was gay, Within the tomb now darkly dwells, And hears no more those evening bells.
And so 'twill be when I am gone— That tuneful peal will still ring on; While other bards shall walk these dells, And sing your praise, sweet evening bells.
THOSE ANNUAL BILLS.
by mark twain.
These annua bills! these annual bills! How many a song their discord trills Of "truck" consumed, enjoyed, forgot, Since I was skinned by last year's lot.
Those joyous beans are passed away; Those onions blithe, O where are they! Once loved, lost, mourned—now vexing ills Your shades troop back in annual bills!
And so 'twill be when I'm aground— These yearly duns will still go round, While other bards, with frantic quills, Shall damn and damn these annual bills!
# Sketches by Mark Twain

SKETCHES
BY
Mark Twain.
NOW FIRST PUBLISHED IN COMPLETE FORM.
TORONTO: BELFORDS, CLARKE & CO. MDCCCLXXIX.
CONTENTS.
| | Page |
| The Recent French Duel | 9 |
| The Great Revolution in Pitcairn | 23 |
| Story of the Bad Little Boy | 40 |
| Story of the Good Little Boy | 45 |
| The Experiences of the McWilliamses with Membranous Croup | 52 |
| Some Fables for Good Old Boys and Girls — Part First | 62 |
| Some Fables for Good Old Boys and Girls — Part Second | 77 |
| Some Fables for Good Old Boys and Girls — Part Third | 86 |
| The Jumping Frog | 92 |
| My Watch — An Instructive Little Tale | 110 |
| Political Economy | 115 |
| Journalism in Tennessee | 124 |
| Two Poems — By Moore and Twain | 132 |
| To Raise Poultry | 134 |
| My First Literary Adventure | 138 |
| The Facts in the Case of the Great Beef Contract | 142 |
| The Facts in the Case of George Fisher, Deceased | 152 |
| The Judge's “Spirited Woman” | 162 |
| The Facts Concerning the Late Senatorial Secretaryship | 165 |
| Riley — Newspaper Correspondent | 171 |
| Science vs. Luck | 177 |
| The Killing of Julius Cæsar “Localized” | 181 |
| An Item which the Editor himself could not understand | 186 ​ |
| A Mediæval Romance | 191 |
| After-Dinner Speech | 202 |
| Lionising Murderers | 205 |
| A New Crime | 211 |
| A Curious Dream | 218 |
| Personal Habits of the Siamese Twins | 231 |
| Speech at the Scottish Banquet at London | 237 |
| A Ghost Story | 240 |
| Legend of the Capitoline Venus | 249 |
| Speech on Accident Insurance | 257 |
| John Chinaman in New York | 260 |
| How I once Edited an Agricultural Paper | 263 |
| The Petrified Man | 271 |
| My Bloody Massacre | 276 |
| Concerning Chambermaids | 281 |
| About Barbers | 284 |
| History Repeats Itself | 290 |
| First Interview with Artemus Ward | 292 |
| A Visit to Niagara | 297 |
| Answers to Correspondents | 307 |
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
# St. Nicholas/Volume 40/Number 12

©A.R.
“HEY! DIDDLE, DIDDLE, THE CAT AND THE FIDDLE!”
PAINTED FOR ST. NICHOLAS BY ARTHUR RACKHAM.
ST. NICHOLAS
Copyright, 1913, by The Century Co. All rights reserved.
(The entire contents of this Magazine are covered by the general copyright, and articles must not be reprinted without special permission.)
CONTENTS OF ST. NICHOLAS FOR OCTOBER, 1913.
The Century Co. and its editors receive manuscripts and art material, submitted for publication, only on the understanding that they shall not be responsible for loss or injury theretowhile in their possession or in transit. Copies of manuscripts should be retained by the authors.
In the United States and Canada, the price of The St. Nicholas Magazine is $3.00 a year in advance, or 25 cents a single copy, without discount or extra inducement of any kind. Foreign postage is 60 cents extra when subscribers abroad with the magazine mailed directly from New York to them. We request that remittance be by money order, bank check, draft, or registered letter. The Century Co. reserves the right to suspend any subscription taken contrary to its selling terms and to refund the unexpired credit.
Trustees
WILLIAM W. ELLSWORTH, President IRA H. BRAINERD, Vice-President JOSIAH J. HAZEN, Ass’t Treasurer DOUGLAS Z. DOTY, Secretary
# St. Nicholas/Volume 40/Number 12/In Spite of Appearances

* related authors: Tony Nell.
* sister projects: Commons category, Wikidata item.
IN SPITE OF APPEARANCES
BY ROBERT EMMET WARD
It does me good to gaze upon The portrait of Granduncle John— An “ambrotype,” when he was nine: It seems to me there could not he A boy so heavenly good as he— That early relative of mine!
His hair, in heavy silken curls As long and golden as a girl's, Lies softly on his ivory brow; His lifted eyes are grave and wise, And blue and calm as summer skies— No boy I know looks that way now!
When I’m particularly bad, I look at that angelic lad; In times of penance I enjoy The tale that he once—just like me— Was cornered up an apple-tree, And fiercely fought the butcher-boy!
The only thing that seems unfair Is that he had that saintly air, And yet was fond of fun and noise; But I suppose it only shows— And it's a comfort, goodness knows!— In spite of looks, boys will be boys!
‘That ’s why I like to gaze upon ‘The portrait of Granduncle John.
# St. Nicholas/Volume 40/Number 11/Polly in France

* related authors: Mabel Betsy Hill.
* sister projects: Commons category, Wikidata item.
POLLY IN FRANCE.
# St. Nicholas/Volume 40/Number 12/Fairy Castle

* related authors: Isaac Walton Taber.
* sister projects: Commons category, Wikidata item.
| This is a fairy castle, This bubble light as air, And if I blow it large enough, And use the greatest care, The silver doors will open, So I can step inside; And there I ’ll find a fairy prince, And I ’ll become his bride. | The rooms are all enchanted With sunbeams pink and gold, And moonbeams, blue and silver, Their glittering scepters hold. They ’ve gauzy wings like fire-flies, And dance, and sing, and play With me, and with my fairy prince, Who ’ll do whate’er I say. |
| I’ll own the Spring of Happiness O’er which the castle grew, The Fountain of Eternal Youth, And Beauty ever new. | But—a dragon guards the entrance, And when I draw too near, He runs inside the castle, And makes it disappear. |
# St. Nicholas/Volume 40/Number 11/Mother Goose

* related authors: Arthur Rackham.
* sister projects: Commons category, Wikidata item.
Previous instalment: St. Nicholas/Volume 40/Number 10/Mother Goose Next instalment: St. Nicholas/Volume 40/Number 12/Mother Goose
©A.R.
| Poor old Robinson Crusoe! Poor old Robinson Crusoe! They made him a coat Of an old nanny-goat, I wonder how they could do so With a ring-a-ting tang, And a ring-a-ting tang, Poor old Robinson Crusoe! | |
| Poor old Robinson Crusoe! Poor old Robinson Crusoe! They made him a coat Of an old nanny-goat, I wonder how they could do so With a ring-a-ting tang, And a ring-a-ting tang, Poor old Robinson Crusoe! | Jack be nimble, And Jack be quick And Jack jump over The candlestick. |
| Dr. Foster went to Gloucester In a shower of rain He stepped in a puddle, right up to his middle, And never went there again. | Fiddle-de-dee, fiddle-de-dee, The Fly shall marry the Bumblebee. They went to church, and married was she: The Fly has married the Bumblebee. |
Drawn by Arthur Rackham.
A TEN O’CLOCK SCHOLAR
A dillar, a dollar, A ten o’clock scholar, What makes you come so soon? You used to come at ten o’clock, But now you come at noon