OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Siege of Valencia; The Last Constantine: with Other Poems/The Tombs of Platæa

THE TOMBS OF PLATÆA.
FROM A PAINTING BY WILLIAMS.
And there they sleep!—the men who stood  In arms before th' exulting sun,  And bathed their spears in Persian blood, And taught the earth how freedom might be won.
 They sleep!—th' Olympic wreaths are dead,  Th' Athenian lyres are hush'd and gone;  The Dorian voice of song is fled— —Slumber, ye mighty! slumber deeply on!
 They sleep, and seems not all around  As hallow'd unto glory's tomb?  Silence is on the battle ground, The heavens are loaded with a breathless gloom.
 And stars are watching on their height,  But dimly seen through mist and cloud,  And still and solemn is the light Which folds the plain, as with a glimmering shroud.
And thou, pale night-queen! here thy beams  Are not as those the shepherd loves,  Nor look they down on shining streams, By Naiads haunted, in their laurel groves:
 Thou seest no pastoral hamlet sleep,  In shadowy quiet, midst its vines;  No temple gleaming from the steep, Midst the grey olives, or the mountain pines:
 But o'er a dim and boundless waste,  Thy rays, e'en like a tomb-lamp's, brood,  Where man's departed steps are traced But by his dust, amidst the solitude.
 And be it thus!—What slave shall tread  O'er freedom's ancient battle-plains?  Let deserts wrap the glorious dead, When their bright land sits weeping o'er her chains:
 Here, where the Persian clarion rung,  And where the Spartan sword flash'd high,  And where the Pæan strains were sung, From year to year swell'd on by liberty!
Here should no voice, no sound, be heard,  Until the bonds of Greece be riven,  Save of the leader's charging word, Or the shrill trumpet, pealing up through heaven!
 Rest in your silent homes, ye brave!  No vines festoon your lonely tree*!  No harvest o'er your war-field wave, Till rushing winds proclaim—the land is free!
# The Siege of Valencia; The Last Constantine: with Other Poems/The Spartan's March

IV.
THE SPARTAN'S MARCH*.
"The Spartans used not the trumpet in their march into battle, says Thucydides, because they wished not to excite the rage of their warriors. Their charging-step was made to the 'Dorian mood of flutes and soft recorders.' The valour of a Spartan was too highly tempered to require a stunning or rousing impulse. His spirit was like a steed too proud for the spur."—Campbell on the Elegiac Poetry of the Greek.
'Twas morn upon the Grecian hills,  Where peasants dress'd the vines, Sunlight was on Cithæron's rills,  Arcadia's rocks and pines.
And brightly, through his reeds and flowers,  Eurotas wander'd by, When a sound arose from Sparta's towers  Of solemn harmony.
Was it the hunters' choral strain  To the woodland-goddess pour'd? Did virgin-hands in Pallas' fane  Strike the full-sounding chord?
But helms were glancing on the stream,  Spears ranged in close array, And shields flung back a glorious beam  To the morn of a fearful day!
And the mountain-echoes of the land  Swell'd through the deep-blue sky, While to soft strains moved forth a band  Of men that moved to die.
They march'd not with the trumpet's blast,  Nor bade the horn peal out, And the laurel-groves, as on they pass'd,  Rung with no battle-shout!
They ask'd no clarion's voice to fire  Their souls with an impulse high; But the Dorian reed and the Spartan lyre  For the sons of liberty!
And still sweet flutes, their path around,  Sent forth Eolian breath; They needed not a sterner sound  To marshal them for death!
So moved they calmly to their field,  Thence never to return, Save bearing back the Spartan shield,  Or on it proudly borne!
# The Siege of Valencia; The Last Constantine: with Other Poems/The Urn and Sword

V.
THE URN AND SWORD.
They sought for treasures in the tomb, Where gentler hands were wont to spread Fresh boughs and flowers of purple bloom, And sunny ringlets, for the dead*.
They scatter'd far the greensward-heap, Where once those hands the bright wine pour'd; —What found they in the home of sleep? —A mouldering urn, a shiver'd sword!
An urn, which held the dust of one Who died when hearths and shrines were free; A sword, whose work was proudly done, Between our mountains and the sea.
And these are treasures!—undismay'd, Still for the suffering land we trust, Wherein the past its fame hath laid, With freedom's sword, and valour's dust.
# The Siege of Valencia; The Last Constantine: with Other Poems/The Funeral Genius

THE FUNERAL GENIUS;
AN ANCIENT STATUE.
"Debout, couronné de fleurs, les bras élevés et posés sur sa tête, et le dos appuyé contre un pin, ce génie semble exprimer par son attitude le répos des morts. Les bas-reliefs des tombeaux offrent souvent des figures semblables."—Visconti, Description des Antiques du Musée Royal.
Thou shouldst be look'd on when the starlight falls Through the blue stillness of the summer-air, Not by the torch-fire wavering on the walls; It hath too fitful and too wild a glare! And thou!—thy rest, the soft, the lovely, seems To ask light steps, that will not break its dreams.
Flowers are upon thy brow; for so the dead Were crown'd of old, with pale spring-flowers like these: Sleep on thine eye hath sunk; yet softly shed As from the wing of some faint southern breeze: And the pine-boughs o'ershadow thee with gloom Which of the grove seems breathing—not the tomb.
They fear'd not death, whose calm and gracious thought Of the last hour, hath settled thus in thee! They who thy wreath of pallid roses wrought, And laid thy head against the forest-tree, As that of one, by music's dreamy close, On the wood-violets lull'd to deep repose.
They fear'd not death!—yet who shall say his touch Thus lightly falls on gentle things and fair? Doth he bestow, or will he leave so much Of tender beauty as thy features wear? Thou sleeper of the bower! on whose young eyes So still a night, a night of summer, lies!
Had they seen aught like thee?—Did some fair boy Thus, with his graceful hair, before them rest? —His graceful hair, no more to wave in joy, But drooping, as with heavy dews oppress'd! And his eye veil'd so softly by its fringe, And his lip faded to the white-rose tinge?
Oh! happy, if to them the one dread hour Made known its lessons from a brow like thine! If all their knowledge of the spoiler's power
Came by a look, so tranquilly divine! —Let him, who thus hath seen the lovely part, Hold well that image to his thoughtful heart!
But thou, fair slumberer! was there less of woe, Or love, or terror, in the days of old, That men pour'd out their gladdening spirit's flow, Like sunshine, on the desolate and cold, And gave thy semblance to the shadowy king Who for deep souls had then a deeper sting?
In the dark bosom of the earth they laid Far more than we—for loftier faith is ours! Their gems were lost in ashes—yet they made The grave a place of beauty and of flowers, With fragrant wreaths, and summer-boughs array'd, And lovely sculpture gleaming through the shade.
Is it for us a darker gloom to shed O'er its dim precincts?—do we not entrust But for a time, its chambers with our dead, And strew immortal seed upon the dust? —Why should we dwell on that which lies beneath, When living light hath touch'd the brow of death?
# The Temple of the Ten

Mystery in the Gobi Desert
THE TEMPLE OF THE TEN
A Complete Novelette
By H.Bedford-Jones and W.C.Robertson
Author of “The Messenger,” “Other Men’s Shoes,” etc.
* I. the professor joins
* II. severn understands
* III. the city of the whirling sands
* IV. the hunting of the rats
* V. “ung-khan, that is to say, prester john”
* VI. the abode of esrun
* VII. “neither a foreigner, nor a cantonist”
* VIII. “steel body needs iron food”
* IX. the captives
* X. “so to front death, as men might judge us past it.”
* XI. “no matter where you hide the egg, the chicken will hatch”
* XII. “mencius said 'that was one time; this is another.'”
* XIII. “this paper currency is circulated in every part of the grand khan's dominions.”
* XIV. “there is heaven so high, and the stars so distant.”
* XV. “a hunted tiger will leap the wall.”
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 1949, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 74 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.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Temple of Fame: A Vision

THE
TEMPLE
OF
FAME.
Price One Shilling.
page
The Temple of Fame.
page
THE
TEMPLE
OF
FAME:
A
VISION.
By Mr. POPE.
The Second Edition.
LONDON:
Printed for Bernard Lintott between the two Temple-Gates in Fleetstreet. 1715.
page
Advertisement.
HE Hint of the following Piece was taken from Chaucer's House of Fame. The Design is in a manner entirely alter'd, the Descriptions and most of the particular Thoughts my own: Yet I could not suffer it to be printed without this Acknowledgment, or think a Concealment of this Nature the less unfair for being common. The Reader who would compare this with Chaucer, may begin with his Third Book of Fame, there being nothing in the Two first Books that answers to their Title.
page
* The Temple of Fame
* Notes
* Advertisements
Layout 2
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 Unfortunate shepherdess/Whistle o'er the lave o't

Dated from the Scottish Book Trade Index.
WHISTLE O'ER THE LAVE O'T.
FIRST when Maggy was my care, Heaven, I thought, was in her hair; ​Now we're married—spier nae mair— Whistle o'er the lave o't.
Meg was meek and Meg was mild, Bonnie Meg was nature's child— Wiser men than me's beguil'd; Whistle o'er the lave o't.
How we live, my Meg and me, How we love and how we 'gree, I carena by how few may see; Whistle o'er the lave o't.
Wha I wish were maggot's meat, Dish'd up in her winding-sheet, I could write—but Mag maun see't— Whistle o'er the lave o't.
FINIS.
# The Ungrateful Son

* "Der undankbare Sohn". Brothers Grimm. Kinder- und Haus-märchen
* "The Ungrateful Son". Margaret Hunt Grimm's Household Tales, Volume 2. 1884
# The Unhallowed Harvest

The
Unhallowed
Harvest
The
Unhallowed
Harvest
By
HOMER GREENE
Author of "The Lincoln Conscript," "Pickett's Gap," etc.
PHILADELPHIA GEORGE W. JACOBS & COMPANY PUBLISHERS
Copyright, 1917, by George W. Jacobs & Company Published March, 1917
All rights reserved Printed in U. S. A.
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 1940, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 83 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.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Soft Side (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1900)/Maud-Evelyn

MAUD-EVELYN
On some allusion to a lady who, though unknown to myself, was known to two or three of the company, it was asked by one of these if we had heard the odd circumstance of what she had just 'come in for'—the piece of luck suddenly overtaking, in the grey afternoon of her career, so obscure and lonely a personage. We were at first, in our ignorance, mainly reduced to crude envy; but old Lady Emma, who for a while had said nothing, scarcely even appearing to listen, and letting the chatter, which was indeed plainly beside the mark, subside of itself, came back from a mental absence to observe that if what had happened to Lavinia was wonderful, certainly what had for years gone before it, led up to it, had likewise not been without some singular features. From this we perceived that Lady Emma had a story—a story, moreover, out of the ken even of those of her listeners acquainted with the quiet person who was the subject of it. Almost the oddest thing—as came out afterwards—was that such a situation should for the world have remained so in the background of this person's life. By 'afterwards' I mean simply before we separated; for what came out came on the spot, under encouragement and pressure, our common, eager solicitation. Lady Emma, who always reminded me of a fine old instrument that has first to be tuned, agreed, after a few of our scrapings and fingerings, that, having said so much, she couldn't, without wantonly tormenting us, forbear to say all. She had known Lavinia, whom she mentioned throughout only by that name, from far away, and she had also known——— But what she had known I must give as nearly as possible as she herself ​gave it. She talked to us from her corner of the sofa, and the flicker of the firelight in her face was like the glow of memory, the play of fancy from within.
* Chapter 1
* Chapter 2
* Chapter 3
* Chapter 4
* Chapter 5
* Chapter 6
* Chapter 7
* Chapter 8
# The Soft Side (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1900)/John Delavoy/Chapter 8

VIII
The first use I made of our rebound was to say with intensity: 'What will you do if he does?'
'Does publish the picture?' There was an instant charm to me in the privacy of her full collapse and the sudden high tide of our common defeat. 'What can I? It's all very well; but there's nothing to be done. I want never to see him again. There's only something,' she went on, 'that you can do.'
'Prevent him?—get it back? I'll do, be sure, my utmost; but it will be difficult without a row.'
'What do you mean by a row?' she asked.
​'I mean it will be difficult without publicity. I don't think we want publicity.'
She turned this over. 'Because it will advertise him?'
'His magnificent energy. Remember what I just now told him. He's the right side.'
'And we're the wrong!' she laughed. 'We mustn't make that known—I see. But, all the same, save my sketch!'
I held her hands. 'And if I do?'
'Ah, get it back first!' she answered, ever so gently and with a smile, but quite taking them away.
I got it back, alas! neither first nor last; though indeed at the end this was to matter, as I thought and as I found, little enough. Mr. Beston rose to his full height and was not to abate an inch even on my offer of another article on a subject notoriously unobjectionable. The only portrait of John Delavoy was going, as he had said, to take, and nothing was to stand in its way. I besieged his office, I waylaid his myrmidons, I haunted his path, I poisoned, I tried to flatter myself, his life; I wrote him at any rate letters by the dozen and showed him up to his friends and his enemies. The only thing I didn't do was to urge Miss Delavoy to write to her solicitors or to the newspapers. The final result, of course, of what I did and what I didn't was to create, on the subject of the sole copy of so rare an original, a curiosity that, by the time The Cynosure appeared with the reproduction, made the month's sale, as I was destined to learn, take a tremendous jump. The portrait of John Delavoy, prodigiously 'paragraphed' in advance and with its authorship flushing through, was accompanied by a page or two, from an anonymous hand, of the pleasantest, liveliest comment. The press was genial, the success immense, current criticism had never flowed so full, and it was universally felt that the handsome thing had been done. The process employed by Mr. Beston had left, as he had promised, nothing to be desired; and the sketch itself, the next week, arrived in safety, and with only a smutch or ​two, by the post. I placed my article, naturally, in another magazine, but was disappointed, I confess, as to what it discoverably did in literary circles for its subject. This ache, however, was muffled. There was a worse victim than I, and there was consolation of a sort in our having out together the question of literary circles. The great orb of The Cynosure, wasn't that a literary circle? By the time we had fairly to face this question we had achieved the union that—at least for resistance or endurance—is supposed to be strength.
# The Times/1939/News/Charles Cotton

Source: The Times Saturday, Sep 30, 1939; pg. 9; Issue 48424 — Mr. C. Cotton
Layout 2
Mr C. Cotton
Mr. Charles Cotton, Knight of Grace of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem and honorary librarian of Christ Church Cathedral, Canterbury, died at The Precincts, Canterbury, on Thursday at the age of 83. He was well known an archaeologist and in The Times of January 7, 1935, wrote an article describing his discovery of a manuscript which helped to identify the six kings of the Cathedral screen.
This work is anonymous or pseudonymous, and is in the public domain in the United States because it was first published outside the United States (and not published in the U.S. within 30 days), and it was first published before 1989 without complying with U.S. copyright formalities (renewal and/or copyright notice) and it was in the public domain in its home country on the URAA date (January 1, 1996 for most countries). It is also in the public domain in other countries and areas where the copyright terms of anonymous or pseudonymous works are 84 years or less since publication.
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.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Times/1938/Public notice/William Kineton Parkes

William Kineton Parkes (1865-1938) Source: The Times Tuesday, Apr 19, 1938; Issue 47972; pg. 1; col A — Deaths
Layout 2 PARKES.—On Easter Sunday, 1938, at 1, Elvaston Place, S.W., William Kineton Parkes. No flowers. Funeral private.
This work is ineligible for copyright and therefore in the public domain, because it consists entirely of information that is common property and contains no original authorship.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Times/1939/Public notice/Henry Stephens Salt

Source: The Times, Thursday, Apr 20, 1939; Issue 48284; pg. 1; col A — Deaths
Layout 2 SALT.—On April 19, 1939, at Brighton, Henry Shakespear Stephens Salt, aged 87. Cremation at 10.45 a.m. on Saturday, April 22, at Brighton Crematorium. No flowers, no mourning.
This work is ineligible for copyright and therefore in the public domain, because it consists entirely of information that is common property and contains no original authorship.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Times/1940

Content exists for this periodical, though at this stage it is not specifically organised beyond a basic hierarchy.
The pages listed below are an automatically generated listing.
Special:PrefixIndex/The Times/1940/
# The Times/1938/Public notice/Edward Verrall Lucas

Source: The Times, Monday, Jun 27, 1938; Issue 48031; pg. 1; col A — Deaths.
Layout 2LUCAS.—On June 26, 1938, at a nursing home Edward Verrall Lucas. aged 70 years. Cremation at Golders Green Crematorium, on Wednesday, June 29, at 12 noon. At the express wish of deceased there will be no religious ceremony and no flowers.
This work is ineligible for copyright and therefore in the public domain, because it consists entirely of information that is common property and contains no original authorship.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Times/1939

Content exists for this periodical, though at this stage it is not specifically organised beyond a basic hierarchy.
The pages listed below are an automatically generated listing.
Special:PrefixIndex/The Times/1939/
# The Times/1939/Obituary/Isaac Herbert Jeayes

Source: The Times (London, England), Thursday, Mar 30, 1939; pg. 16; Issue 48267. — Mr. I. H. Jeayes.
Mr. I. H. Jeayes
Mr. Isaac Herbert Jeayes, who died at Upminster on Monday, aged 89, was for many years a member of the staff of the British Museum.
He was educated at Rugby, but owing to the death of his father did not go to the University. He held one or two minor posts in the Civil Service, including for a short time a clerkship in the Meteorological Office, before joining the staff of the British Museum about 1872. There he was appointed to the Department of Manuscripts, becoming a Senior Assistant in 1875 and Assistant Keeper (equivalent to the present rank of Deputy Keeper) in 1906. He retired in July, 1913, and had since lived in Essex.
In his Department proved himself a very quick worker, and was much employed on the catalogue of the Stowe MSS. He also did a great deal of work on English charters of which he catalogued several big private collections, and was in general a most useful and kindly member of the staff. In 1896 he edited the Rydeware Chartulary, which was later acquired by the Museum.
A correspondent writes:— Isaac Herbert Jeayes lives on in my affectionate memory of many friends, especially that sadly diminished band his sometime colleagues in the Department of Manuscripts. His cheery and equable disposition and his unfailing readiness to give a helping hand where it was needed endeared him to all who were brought into contact with him. A man of unflagging industry, he accomplished much useful work in arranging and cataloguing private and municipal collections of charters and other manuscripts in various parts of the country, both during his term of official service and for many years after his retirement. He edited Randle Holme’s "Academy of Armoury" for the Roxburghe Collection. A sound musician and keen churchman, he acted as choirmaster to a church in Highgate. There must still be a few living, besides the present writer, who have enjoyed the delightful four-men part-songs in which he sand the alto part (frequently contributing to the same programme a bass solo!). A widower for several years, he was cared for to the last by his daughter. One of his sons is the well-known actor Allan Jeayes.
This work is anonymous or pseudonymous, and is in the public domain in the United States because it was first published outside the United States (and not published in the U.S. within 30 days), and it was first published before 1989 without complying with U.S. copyright formalities (renewal and/or copyright notice) and it was in the public domain in its home country on the URAA date (January 1, 1996 for most countries). It is also in the public domain in other countries and areas where the copyright terms of anonymous or pseudonymous works are 84 years or less since publication.
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.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Veil and other poems/The Imagination's Pride

THE IMAGINATION'S PRIDE
BE not too wildly amorous of the far,
Nor lure thy fantasy to its utmost scope.
Read by a taper when the needling star
Burns red with menace in heaven's midnight cope.
Friendly thy body: guard its solitude.
Sure shelter is thy heart. It once had rest
Where founts miraculous thy lips endewed,
Yet nought loomed further than thy mother's breast.
O brave adventure! Ay, at danger slake
Thy thirst, lest life in thee should, sickening, quail;
But not toward nightmare goad a mind awake,
Nor to forbidden horizons bend thy sail—
Seductive outskirts whence in trance prolonged
Thy gaze, at stretch of what is sane-secure,
Dreams out on steeps by shapes demoniac thronged
And vales wherein alone the dead endure.
Nectarous those flowers, yet with venom sweet.
Thick-juiced with poison hang those fruits that shine
Where sick phantasmal moonbeams brood and beat,
And dark imaginations ripe the vine.
Bethink thee: every enticing league thou wend
Beyond the mark where life its bound hath set
Will lead thee at length where human pathways end
And the dark enemy spreads his maddening net.
Comfort thee, comfort thee. Thy Father knows
How wild man's ardent spirit, fainting, yearns
For mortal glimpse of death's immortal rose,
The garden where the invisible blossom burns.
Humble thy trembling knees; confess thy pride;
Be weary. O, whithersoever thy vaunting rove,
His deepest wisdom harbours in thy side,
In thine own bosom hides His utmost love.