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# The Records of the Federal Convention of 1787/Volume 3/Appendix A/CLXI

​ⅭⅬⅪ. The Federalist, No. ⅩⅩⅩⅢ. [Hamilton.]
But suspicion may ask, Why then was it [Art. I, Sect. 8, last paragraph] introduced? The answer is, that it could only have been done for greater caution, and to guard against all cavilling refinements in those who might hereafter feel a disposition to curtail and evade the legitimate authorities of the union. The convention probably foresaw, that it has been a principal aim of these papers to inculcate, that the danger which most threatens our political welfare is, that the state governments will finally sap the foundations of the union; and might therefore think it necessary, in so cardinal a point, to leave nothing to construction. Whatever may have been the inducement to it, the wisdom of the precaution is evident from the cry which has been raised against it; as that very cry betrays a disposition to question the great and essential truth which it is manifestly the object of that provision to declare.
# The Records of the Federal Convention of 1787/Volume 3/Appendix A/CLXII

​ⅭⅬⅫ. [Gerry:] Reply to a Landholder Ⅰ.}}
Mr. Russell:
You are desired to inform the publick from good authority, that Mr. Gerry … never heard, in the Convention, a motion made, much less did make any, “for the redemption of the old continental ​money;” but that he proposed the public debt should be made neither better nor worse by the new system, but stand precisely on the same ground by the Articles of Confederation; that had there been such a motion, he was not interested in it, as he did not then, neither does he now, own the value of ten pounds in continental money; that he neither was called on for his reasons for not signing, but stated them fully in the progress of the business. His objections are chiefly contained in his letter to the Legislature; that he believes his colleagues men of too much honour to assert what is not truth; that his reasons in the Convention “were totally different from those which he published,” that his only motive for dissenting from the Constitution, was a firm persuasion that it would endanger the liberties of America; that if the people are of a different opinion, they have a right to adopt; but he was not authorized to an act, which appeared to him was a surrender of their liberties; that a representative of a free state, he was bound in honour to vote according to his idea of her true interest, and that he should do the same in similar circumstances.
# The Records of the Federal Convention of 1787/Volume 3/Appendix A/CLV

​ⅭⅬⅤ. James Madison to George Washington.
New York Decr. 20. 1787.
Tricks of this sort are not uncommon with the Enemies of the new Constitution. Col. Mason’s objections were as I am told published in Boston mutilated of that which pointed at the regulation of Commerce. Docr Franklins concluding speech which you will meet with in one of the papers herewith inclosed, is both mutilated & adulterated so as to change both the form & the spirit of it.
ⅭⅬⅥ. Ezra Stiles: Diary.
[December] 21. [1787]. Mr. Baldwin was one of the Continental Convention at Philada last Summer. He gave me an Acct of the whole Progress in Convention. It appeared that they were pretty unanimous in the followg Ideas, viz. 1. In a firm foederal Government. 2. That this shd be very popular or stand on the People at large. 3. That their Object shd comprehend all Things of common foederal Concern & wc individual States could not determine or enforce. 4. That the Jurisdictions & Govt of each State shd be
* ↑ Documentary History of the Constitution, Ⅳ, 416–417.
* ↑ See ⅭⅬⅠ and note 2 above.
* ↑ Literary Diary of Ezra Stiles, Ⅲ, 293–295.
# The Phoenix and the Turtle

Let the bird of loudest lay, On the sole Arabian tree, Herald sad and trumpet be, To whose sound chaste wings obey.
But thou, shrieking harbinger, Foul pre-currer of the fiend, Augur of the fever's end, To this troop come thou not near.
From this session interdict Every fowl of tyrant wing, Save the eagle, feather'd king: Keep the obsequy so strict.
Let the priest in surplice white, That defunctive music can, Be the death-defying swan, Lest the requiem lack his right.
And thou, treble-dated crow, That thy sable gender mak'st With the breath thou giv'st and tak'st, 'Mongst our mourners shalt thou go.
Here the anthem doth commence: Love and constancy is dead; Phoenix and the turtle fled In a mutual flame from hence.
So they lov'd, as love in twain Had the essence but in one; Two distincts, division none: Number there in love was slain.
Hearts remote, yet not asunder; Distance, and no space was seen 'Twixt the turtle and his queen; But in them it were a wonder.
So between them love did shine, That the turtle saw his right Flaming in the phoenix' sight: Either was the other's mine.
Property was thus appall'd, That the self was not the same; Single nature's double name Neither two nor one was call'd.
Reason, in itself confounded, Saw division grow together; To themselves yet either-neither, Simple were so well compounded.
That it cried how true a twain Seemeth this concordant one! Love hath reason, reason none If what parts can so remain.
Whereupon it made this threne To the phoenix and the dove, Co-supreme and stars of love; As chorus to their tragic scene.
THRENOS.
Beauty, truth, and rarity. Grace in all simplicity, Here enclos'd in cinders lie.
Death is now the phoenix' nest; And the turtle's loyal breast To eternity doth rest,
Leaving no posterity:—
'Twas not their infirmity, It was married chastity.
Truth may seem, but cannot be: Beauty brag, but 'tis not she; Truth and beauty buried be.
To this urn let those repair That are either true or fair; For these dead birds sigh a prayer.
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
# The Phoenix and the Carpet/Dedication

To
My Dear Godson HUBERT GRIFFITH and his sister MARGARET
TO HUBERT
Dear Hubert, if I ever found A wishing-carpet lying round, I'd stand upon it, and I'd say: 'Take me to Hubert, right away!' And then we'd travel very far To where the magic countries are That you and I will never see, And choose the loveliest gifts for you, from me.
But oh! alack! and well-a-day! No wishing-carpets come my way. I never found a Phoenix yet, And Psammeads are so hard to get! So I give you nothing fine— Only this book, your book and mine, And hers, whose name by yours is set; Your book, my book, the book of Margaret!
E. NESBIT DYMCHURCH September, 1904
# The Phoenix on the Sword

* Chapter I
* Chapter II
* Chapter III
* Chapter IV
* Chapter V
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was legally published within the United States (or the United Nations Headquarters in New York subject to Section 7 of the United States Headquarters Agreement) before 1964, and copyright was not renewed.
* For Class A renewal records (books only) published between 1923 and 1963, check the Stanford University Copyright Renewal Database.
* For other renewal records of publications between 1922–1950, see the University of Pennsylvania copyright records.
* For all records since 1978, search the U.S. Copyright Office records.
Works published in 1932 could have had their copyright renewed in 1959 or 1960, i.e. between January 1st of the 27th year after publication or registration and December 31st of the 28th year. As this work's copyright was not renewed, it entered the public domain on January 1st, 1961.
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.
It is imperative that contributors ascertain that there is no evidence of a copyright renewal before using this license. Failure to do so will result in the deletion of the work as a copyright violation.
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# The Poems of Oscar Wilde/Le Jardin des Tuileries

LE JARDIN DES TUILERIES
This winter air is keen and cold, And keen and cold this winter sun, But round my chair the children run Like little things of dancing gold.
Sometimes about the painted kiosk The mimic soldiers strut and stride, Sometimes the blue-eyed brigands hide In the bleak tangles of the bosk.
And sometimes, while the old nurse cons Her book, they steal across the square, And launch their paper navies where Huge Triton writhes in greenish bronze.
And now in mimic flight they flee, And now they rush, a boisterous band— And, tiny hand on tiny hand, Climb up the black and leafless tree.
Ah! cruel tree! if I were you, And children climbed me, for their sake Though it be winter I would break Into spring blossoms white and blue!
# The Poems of Oscar Wilde/Le Panneau

FANTAISIES DÉCORATIVES
I
LE PANNEAU
Under the rose-tree's dancing shade There stands a little ivory girl, Pulling the leaves of pink and pearl With pale green nails of polished jade.
The red leaves fall upon the mould, The white leaves flutter, one by one, Down to a blue bowl where the sun, Like a great dragon, writhes in gold.
The white leaves float upon the air, The red leaves flutter idly down, Some fall upon her yellow gown, And some upon her raven hair.
She takes an amber lute and sings, And as she sings a silver crane Begins his scarlet neck to strain, And flap his burnished metal wings.
​She takes a lute of amber bright, And from the thicket where he lies Her lover, with his almond eyes, Watches her movements in delight.
And now she gives a cry of fear, And tiny tears begin to start: A thorn has wounded with its dart The pink-veined sea-shell of her ear.
And now she laughs a merry note: There has fallen a petal of the rose Just where the yellow satin shows The blue-veined flower of her throat.
With pale green nails of polished jade, Pulling the leaves of pink and pearl, There stands a little ivory girl Under the rose-tree's dancing shade.
# The Poems of Oscar Wilde/Libertatis Sacra Fames

LIBERTATIS SACRA FAMES
Albeit nurtured in democracy, And liking best that state republican Where every man is Kinglike and no man Is crowned above his fellows, yet I see, Spite of this modern fret for Liberty, Better the rule of One, whom all obey, Than to let clamorous demagogues betray Our freedom with the kiss of anarchy. Wherefore I love them not whose hands profane Plant the red flag upon the piled-up street For no right cause, beneath whose ignorant reign Arts, Culture, Reverence, Honour, all things fade, Save Treason and the dagger of her trade, Or Murder with his silent bloody feet.
# The Poems of Oscar Wilde/Lotus Leaves

LOTUS LEAVES
νεμεσσῶμαί γε μὲν οὐδέν κλαίειν ὅς κε θάνῃσι βροτῶν καὶ πότμον ἐπίσπῃ, τοῦτό νυ καὶ γέρας οἶον ὀϊζυροῖσι βροτοῖσι κείρασθαί τε κόμην βαλέειν τ' ἀπὸ δάκρυ παρειῶν.
There is no peace beneath the noon. Ah! in those meadows is there peace Where, girdled with a silver fleece, As a bright shepherd, strays the moon?
Queen of the gardens of the sky, Where stars like lilies, white and fair, Shine through the mists of frosty air, Oh, tarry, for the dawn is nigh!
Oh, tarry, for the envious day Stretches long hands to catch thy feet. Alas! but thou art over-fleet, Alas! I know thou wilt not stay. ..... Up sprang the sun to run his race, The breeze blew fair on meadow and lea; But in the west I seemed to see The likeness of a human face.
​A linnet on the hawthorn spray Sang of the glories of the spring, And made the flow'ring copses ring With gladness for the new-born day.
A lark from out the grass I trod Flew wildly, and was lost to view In the great seamless veil of blue That hangs before the face of God.
The willow whispered overhead That death is but a newer life, And that with idle words of strife We bring dishonour on the dead.
I took a branch from off the tree, And hawthorn-blossoms drenched with dew, I bound them with a sprig of yew, And made a garland fair to see.
I laid the flowers where He lies, (Warm leaves and flowers on the stone); What joy I had to sit alone Till evening broke on tired eyes:
Till all the shifting clouds had spun A robe of gold for God to wear, And into seas of purple air Sank the bright galley of the sun.
​Shall I be gladdened for the day, And let my inner heart be stirred By murmuring tree or song of bird, And sorrow at the wild wind's play?
Not so: such idle dreams belong To souls of lesser depth than mine; I feel that I am half divine; I know that I am great and strong.
I know that every forest tree By labour rises from the root; I know that none shall gather fruit By sailing on the barren sea.
# The Poems of Oscar Wilde/Le Jardin

IMPRESSIONS
I
LE JARDIN
The lily's withered chalice falls Around its rod of dusty gold, And from the beech-trees on the wold The last wood-pigeon coos and calls.
The gaudy leonine sunflower Hangs black and barren on its stalk, And down the windy garden walk The dead leaves scatter,—hour by hour.
Pale privet-petals white as milk Are blown into a snowy mass: The roses lie upon the grass Like little shreds of crimson silk.
# The Poems of Oscar Wilde/Les Ballons

II
LES BALLONS
Against these turbid turquoise skies The light and luminous balloons Dip and drift like satin moons, Drift like silken butterflies;
Reel with every windy gust, Rise and reel like dancing girls, Float like strange transparent pearls, Fall and float like silver dust.
Now to the low leaves they cling, Each with coy fantastic pose, Each a petal of a rose Straining at a gossamer string.
Then to the tall trees they climb, Like thin globes of amethyst, Wandering opals keeping tryst With the rubies of the lime.
# The Poems of Oscar Wilde/Louis Napoleon

LOUIS NAPOLEON
Eagle of Austerlitz! where were thy wings When far away upon a barbarous strand, In fight unequal, by an obscure hand, Fell the last scion of thy brood of Kings!
Poor boy! thou shalt not flaunt thy cloak of red, Or ride in state through Paris in the van Of thy returning legions, but instead Thy mother France, free and republican,
Shall on thy dead and crownless forehead place The better laurels of a soldier's crown, That not dishonoured should thy soul go down To tell the mighty Sire of thy race
That France hath kissed the mouth of Liberty, And found it sweeter than his honied bees, And that the giant wave Democracy Breaks on the shores where Kings lay crouched at ease.
# The Poems of Oscar Wilde/Les Silhouettes

FLOWERS OF GOLD
IMPRESSIONS
I
LES SILHOUETTES
The sea is flecked with bars of grey, The dull dead wind is out of tune, And like a withered leaf the moon Is blown across the stormy bay.
Etched clear upon the pallid sand Lies the black boat: a sailor boy Clambers aboard in careless joy With laughing face and gleaming hand.
And overhead the curlews cry, Where through the dusky upland grass The young brown-throated reapers pass, Like silhouettes against the sky.
# The Poems of Oscar Wilde/Madonna Mia

MADONNA MIA
A lily-girl, not made for this world's pain, With brown, soft hair close braided by her ears, And longing eyes half veiled by slumberous tears Like bluest water seen through mists of rain: Pale cheeks whereon no love hath left its stain, Red underlip drawn in for fear of love, And white throat, whiter than the silvered dove, Through whose wan marble creeps one purple vein, Yet, though my lips shall praise her without cease, Even to kiss her feet I am not bold, Being o'ershadowed by the wings of awe, Like Dante, when he stood with Beatrice Beneath the flaming Lion's breast, and saw The seventh Crystal, and the Stair of Gold.
# The Poems of Oscar Wilde/Magdalen Walks

MAGDALEN WALKS
The little white clouds are racing over the sky, And the fields are strewn with the gold of the flower of March, The daffodil breaks under foot, and the tasselled larch Sways and swings as the thrush goes hurrying by.
A delicate odour is borne on the wings of the morning breeze, The odour of deep wet grass, and of brown new-furrowed earth, The birds are singing for joy of the Spring's glad birth, Hopping from branch to branch on the rocking trees.
And all the woods are alive with the murmur and sound of Spring, And the rose-bud breaks into pink on the climbing briar, And the crocus-bed is a quivering moon of fire Girdled round with the belt of an amethyst ring.
​And the plane to the pine-tree is whispering some tale of love Till it rustles with laughter and tosses its mantle of green, And the gloom of the wych-elm's hollow is lit with the iris sheen Of the burnished rainbow throat and the silver breast of a dove.
See! the lark starts up from his bed in the meadow there, Breaking the gossamer threads and the nets of dew, And flashing adown the river, a flame of blue! The kingfisher flies like an arrow, and wounds the air.
And the sense of my life is sweet! though I know that the end is nigh: For the ruin and rain of winter will shortly come, The lily will lose its gold, and the chestnut-bloom In billows of red and white on the grass will lie.
​And even the light of the sun will fade at the last, And the leaves will fall, and the birds will hasten away, And I will be left in the snow of a flowerless day To think on the glories of Spring, and the joys of a youth long past.
Yet be silent, my heart! do not count it a profitless thing To have seen the splendour of the sun, and of grass, and of flower! To have lived and loved! for I hold that to love for an hour Is better for man and for woman than cycles of blossoming Spring.
# The Rosciad

THE
ROSCIAD.
[Price One Shilling and Sixpence.]
THE
ROSCIAD.
BY
C. CHURCHILL.
THE SECOND EDITION,
Revised and Corrected, with Additions.
LONDON:
Printed for the Author, and sold by W. Flexney, near Gray's-Inn-Gate, Holborn.
MDCCLXI.
THE
ROSCIAD.
FINIS.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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# The Rose (Queen's Court Manuscript)

* related portals: Czech literature.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
This poem comes from the so called Queen's Court Manuscript, alleged mediaeval work whose real authors were most probably Václav Hanka and Josef Linda in the early 19th century.
English-language translations of Róže include:
* Achti roze, krasna roze!, in Cheskian Anthology by John Bowring (1832)
* The Rose, in The Queen's Court Manuscript with Other Ancient Bohemian Poems by Albert Henry Wratislaw (1852)
# The Rose

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "The Rose."
* 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.
* The Rose, a poem by William Browne
* "The Rose", a poem by Edith Mary David
* The Rose, a fairy fale by Jacob Grimm and Wilhelm Grimm
* The Rose, a poem by Václav Hanka
* The Rose, a poem by George Herbert
* The Rose, a metrical tale from The Golden Violet by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
* The Rose, from Ethel Churchill by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
* The Rose, a poem by John Cowper Powys
* The Rose, a poem from the so called Queen's Court Manuscript (Manuscript of Dvůr Králové), 19th century forgery
* The Rose, a thought by Lydia Huntley Sigourney
* The Rose, a poem by Robert Southey
* The Rose, a short story by Harriet Prescott Spofford
* The Rose, a poem by Sara Teasdale
* "The Rose", a poem by Marie Van Vorst
* The Rose, a collection by William Butler Yeats
** The Rose of the World
** The Rose of Peace
** The Rose of Battle
* The Rose, a poem by Ella Young
# The Rose Dawn

* information about this edition.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
Note that while The Rose Dawn is a story of the old American West, it is not a Western. Rather it follows the fortunes of Colonel Peyton, a thoughtful, courteous, and thoroughly old-fashioned gentleman—in the days before and during the boom. Last but not the least, it is the coming of age story; of a boy and a girl, and of California. [The three books, Gold (1913), The Gray Dawn (1915) and The Rose Dawn (1920) were later included in the omnibus The Story of California (1920).]
THE ROSE DAWN
BOOKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR
| THE CLAIM JUMPERS | THE ADVENTURES OF BOBBY ORDE |
| THE WESTERNERS | THE MOUNTAINS |
| THE BLAZED TRAIL | THE PASS |
| ARIZONA NIGHTS | THE MAGIC FOREST |
| BLAZED TRAIL STORIES | THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS |
| CAMP AND TRAIL | FRICAN CAMP FIRES |
| CONJUROR'S HOUSE | THE REDISCOVERED COUNTRY |
| THE FOREST | GOLD |
| THE SIGN AT SIX | SIMBA |
| THE RULES OF THE GAME | THE LEOPARD WOMAN |
| [THE GRAY DAWN | THE MYSTERY |
| THE RIVERMAN | (With Samuel Hopkins Adams) |
| THE SILENT PLACES | THE KILLER |
THE ROSE DAWN
BY
STEWART EDWARD WHITE
GARDEN CITY NEW YORK
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
1920
COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION
INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN
COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY
FOREWORD
THE author has written this story mainly from personal experience and recollection. He has, however, used freely two books dealing with land boom days. These are T. S. Van Dyke's Millionaires of a Day; and T. R. Sanford's The Bursting of a Boom. From Van Dyke's really classic description the psychological sequence has been followed very closely; and from the Sanford book some of the auctioneer "patter" has been lifted bodily. This has been done with full appreciation and gratitude: and the author wishes here to record his indebtedness.
THE ROSE DAWN
* 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 is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1946, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 77 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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