OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919/The Voice of the Guns

THE VOICE OF THE GUNS
WE are the guns, and your masters! Saw ye our flashes? Heard ye the scream of our shells in the night, and the shuddering crashes? Saw ye our work by the roadside, the grey wounded lying, Moaning to God that he made them—the maimed and the dying? Husbands or sons, Fathers or lovers, we break them! We are the guns!
We are the guns and ye serve us! Dare ye grow weary, Steadfast at nighttime, at noontime; or waking, when dawn winds blow dreary Over the fields and the flats and the reeds of the barrier water, To wait on the hour of our choosing, the minute decided for slaughter? Swift the clock runs; Yes, to the ultimate second. Stand to your guns!
​We are the guns and we need you! Here in the timbered Pits that are screened by the crest and the copse where at dusk ye unlimbered, Pits that one found us—and finding, gave life (did he flinch from the giving?); Laboured by moonlight when wraith of the dead brooded yet o'er the living, Ere, with the sun's Rising the sorrowful spirit abandoned its guns.
Who but the guns shall avenge him? Strip us for action! Load us and lay to the centremost hair of the dial-sight's refraction! Set your quick hands to our levers to compass the sped soul's assoiling; Brace your taut limbs to the shock when the thrust of the barrel recoiling Deafens and stuns! Vengeance is ours for our servants! Trust ye the guns!
Least of our bond-slaves or greatest, grudge ye the burden? Hard is this service of ours which has only our service for guerdon: Grow the limbs lax, and unsteady the hands, which aforetime we trusted? Flawed, the clear crystal of sight; and the clean steel of hardihood rusted? Dominant ones, Are we not tried serfs and proven—true to our guns?
Ye are the guns! Are we worthy? Shall not these speak for us, Out of the woods where the tree-trunks are slashed with the vain bolts that seek for us, Thunder of batteries firing in unison, swish of shell fighting, Hissing that rushes to silence and breaks to the thud of alighting? Death that outruns Horseman and foot? Are we justified? Answer, O guns!
​Yea! by your works are ye justified—toil unrelievèd; Manifold labours co-ordinate each to the sending achievèd; Discipline not of the feet but the soul unremitting unfeignèd; Tortures unholy by flame and by maiming, known, faced and disdainèd; Courage that shuns Only foolhardiness;—even by these are ye worthy your guns!
Wherefore—and unto ye only—power has been given; Yea! beyond man, over men, over desolate cities and riven; Yea! beyond space, over earth and the seas and the sky's high dominions; Yea! beyond time, over Hell and the fiends and the Death-Angel's pinions! Vigilant ones, Loose them, and shatter, and spare not! We are the guns!
Gilbert Frankau
# A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919/The Toy Band

THE TOY BAND
(A Song of the Great Retreat)
DREARY lay the long road, dreary lay the town, Lights out and never a glint o' moon: Weary lay the stragglers, half a thousand down, Sad sighed the weary big Dragoon: "Oh! if I'd a drum here to make them take the road again, Oh! if I'd a fife to wheedle, Come, boys, come! You that mean to fight it out, wake and take your load again, Fall in! Fall in! Follow the fife and drum!
"Hey, but here's a toy shop, here's a drum for me, Penny whistles too to play the tune! Half a thousand dead men soon shall hear and see We're a band!" said the weary big Dragoon. "Rubadub! Rubadub! Wake and take the road again, Wheedle-deedle-deedle-dee, Come, boys, come! You that mean to fight it out, wake and take your load again, Fall in! Fall in! Follow the fife and drum!"
Cheerly goes the dark road, cheerly goes the night, Cheerly goes the blood to keep the beat: Half a thousand dead men marching on to fight With a little penny drum to lift their feet. Rubadub! Rubadub! Wake and take the road again, Wheedle-deedle-deedle-dee, Come, boys, come! You that mean to fight it out, wake and take your load again, Fall in! Fall in! Follow the fife and drum!
As long as there's an Englishman to ask a tale of me, As long as I can tell the tale aright, We'll not forget the penny whistle's wheedle-deedle-dee And the big Dragoon a-beating down the night, ​Rubadub! Rubadub! Wake and take the road again, Wheedle-deedle-deedle-dee, Come, boys, come! You that mean to fight it out, wake and take your load again, Fall in! Fall in! Follow the fife and drum!
Henry Newbolt
# A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919/The Superman

THE SUPERMAN
THE horror-haunted Belgian plains riven by shot and shell Are strewn with her undaunted sons who stayed the jaws of hell. In every sunny vale of France death is the countersign. The purest blood in Britain's veins is being poured like wine.
Far, far across the crimsoned map the impassioned armies sweep, Destruction flashes down the sky and penetrates the deep. The Dreadnought knows the silent dread, and seas incarnadine Attest the carnival of strife, the madman's battle scene.
Relentless, savage, hot, and grim the infuriate columns press Where terror simulates disdain and danger is largess, Where greedy youth claims death for bride and agony seems bliss. It is the cause, the cause, my soul! which sanctifies all this.
Ride, Cossacks, ride! Charge, Turcos, charge! The fateful hour has come. Let all the guns of Britain roar or be forever dumb. The Superman has burst his bonds. With Kultur-flag unfurled And prayer on lip he runs amuck, imperilling the world.
The impious creed that might is right in him personified Bids all creation bend before the insatiate Teuton pride, Which, nourished on Valhalla dreams of empire unconfined, Would make the cannon and the sword the despots of mankind.
Efficient, thorough, strong, and brave—his vision is to kill. Force is the hearthstone of his might, the pole-star of his will. His forges glow malevolent: their minions never tire To deck the goddess of his lust whose twins are blood and fire.
​O world grown sick with butchery and manifold distress! O broken Belgium robbed of all save grief and ghastliness! Should Prussian power enslave the world and arrogance prevail, Let chaos come, let Moloch rule, and Christ give place to Baal.
Robert Grant
# A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919/The Volunteer (Asquith)

THE VOLUNTEER
HERE lies a clerk who half his life had spent Toiling at ledgers in a city grey, Thinking that so his days would drift away With no lance broken in life's tournament: Yet ever 'twixt the books and his bright eyes The gleaming eagles of the legions came, And horsemen, charging under phantom skies, Went thundering past beneath the oriflamme.
And now those waiting dreams are satisfied; From twilight to the halls of dawn he went; His lance is broken; but he lies content With that high hour, in which he lived and died. And falling thus he wants no recompense, Who found his battle in the last resort; Nor needs he any hearse to bear him hence, Who goes to join the men of Agincourt.
Herbert Asquith
# Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

A novel by Lewis Carroll first published in 1865.
* Alice's Adventures Under Ground (1864), manuscript illustrated by Lewis Carroll.
* Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (1866), illustrated by John Tenniel.
* Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (1901), illustrated by Peter Newell
* Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (1907), illustrated by Charles Robinson.
* Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (1907), illustrated by Arthur Rackham

### Adaptations

* Alice in Wonderland (1903), silent film adaptation.
* Alice in Wonderland in Words of One Syllable (1905), adapted by J. C. Gorham.

### Individual poems

* "All in the Golden Afternoon"
* "You Are Old, Father William"

### See also

* Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There (1871), Carroll's sequel.
* Alice in Blunderland (1907), parody by John Kendrick Bangs.
# Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (1866)

* related portals: Children's literature, Fantasy.
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, Commons gallery, Commons category, quotes, Wikidata item.
edition used is 1866 one or more chapters are available in a spoken word format.
ALICE'S ADVENTURES
IN WONDERLAND.
BY
LEWIS CARROLL.
WITH FORTY-TWO ILLUSTRATIONS
BY JOHN TENNIEL.
London:
MACMILLAN AND CO.
1866.
[The Right of Translation and Reproduction is Reserved.]
All in the golden afternoon Full leisurely we glide; For both our oars, with little skill, By little arms are plied, While little hands make vain pretence Our wanderings to guide.
Ah, cruel Three! In such an hour. Beneath such dreamy weather. To beg a tale of breath too weak To stir the tiniest feather! Yet what can one poor voice avail Against three tongues together?
​Imperious Prima flashes forth Her edict "to begin it"— In gentler tone Secunda hopes "There will be nonsense in it!"— While Tertia interrupts the tale Not more than once a minute.
Anon, to sudden silence won, In fancy they pursue The dream-child moving through a land Of wonders wild and new, In friendly chat with bird or beast— And half believe it true.
And ever, as the story drained The wells of fancy dry, And faintly strove that weary one To put the subject by, "The rest next time—" "It is next time!" The happy voices cry.
​Thus grew the tale of Wonderland: Thus slowly, one by one, Its quaint events were hammered out— And now the tale is done, And home we steer, a merry crew, Beneath the setting' sun.
Alice! a childish story take, And with a gentle hand Lay it where Childhood's dreams are twined In Memory's mystic band, Like pilgrim's wither'd wreath of flowers Pluck'd in a far-off land.
CONTENTS.
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
# Adams Newark Theater Company v. City of Newark

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
353 U.S. 955
Adams Newark Theater Company v. City of Newark

## Notes

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Adams Manufacturing Company v. Storen

United States Supreme Court
304 U.S. 307
Adams Manufacturing Company v. Storen
Argued: March 30, 31, 1938. --- Decided: May 16, 1938
Messrs. Frederick E. Matson and Harry T. Ice, both of Indianapolis, Ind., for appellant.
Messrs. A. J. Stevenson, Asst. Atty. Gen., and Joseph P. McNamara, Deputy Atty. Gen., for appellees.
Mr. Justice ROBERTS delivered the opinion of the Court.

## Notes

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Adams Newark Theater Company v. City of Newark/Opinion of the Court

* Court Documents
* Case Syllabus
* Opinion of the Court
United States Supreme Court
353 U.S. 955
Adams Newark Theater Company v. City of Newark
Messrs. Sylvan C. Balder and Isadore Gottlieb, for appellants.
Mr. Vincent J. Casale, for appellees.
The application for stay is denied.
Mr. Justice BRENNAN took no part in the consideration or decision of this application.

## Notes

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Adams ex rel. Kasper v. School Board of St. Johns County, Florida

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Adams ex rel. Kasper v. School Board of St. Johns County, Florida."
* 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.
* 17-cv-739 (M.D. Fla. July 26, 2018), reported at 318 F.Supp.3d 1293
** Opinion of Judge Timothy J. Corrigan, for Adams
* 18-13592 (11th Cir. Aug. 7, 2020), reported at 968 F.3d 1286
** Opinion of Judge Martin, joined by Judge J. Pryor, for Adams; dissenting opinion of Chief Judge W. Pryor
* 18-13592 (11th Cir. July 14, 2021), reported at 3 F.4th 1299
** Revision of the 2020 panel opinion
* 18-13592 (11th Cir. Aug. 23, 2021), reported at 9 F.4th 1369
** Order for rehearing en banc, vacating the panel opinion
* 18-13592 (11th Cir. Dec. 30, 2022)
** Opinion of the en banc court of appeals, for the Board, with several concurring and dissenting opinions
# Alumni Oxonienses: the Members of the University of Oxford, 1500-1714/Wheeler, Jonathan

From volume 4 of the work.
​Wheeler, Jonathan, s. J., of Ringwood, Hants, pleb. Exeter Coll., matric. 10 Dec., 1699, aged 18.
# Alumni Oxonienses: the Members of the University of Oxford, 1500-1714/Wheeler, John (7)

From volume 4 of the work.
​Wheeler, John, s. Humphr., of Stanton Harcourt, Oxon, paup. Wadham Coll., matric. 14 July, 1682, aged 17, B.A. 1686; perhaps vicar of North Moreton, Berks, 1690, and father of Devereux and John 1706.
# Alumni Oxonienses: the Members of the University of Oxford, 1500-1714/Wheeler, Maurice

From volume 4 of the work.
​Wheeler, Maurice, s. Maur., of St. Giles, Dorset, pleb. New Inn Hall, matric. 1 April, 1664, aged 16, B.A. 1667; chaplain or minor canon Christ Church, M.A. 1670; rector of St. Ebbes, Oxford, master of the collegiate school in Gloucester; rector of Sibbertoft 1680-4, of Wappenham 1712-15, and of Thorpe Mandeville, (all) Northants, 1720, canon of Lincoln 1708; buried at Wappenham 7 or 9 Oct., 1727. See Ath. iv. 785; Fasti, ii. 319; & Foster's Index Eccl.
# Alumni Oxonienses: the Members of the University of Oxford, 1500-1714/Wheeler, John (6)

From volume 4 of the work.
​Wheeler, John, s. Robert, of Offenham, co. Worcester, gent. Queen's Coll., matric. 28 Nov., 1673, aged 16; bar.-at-law, Middle Temple, 1683, buried in Temple church 19 Jan., 1696-7. See Foster's Judges and Barristers.
# Alumni Oxonienses: the Members of the University of Oxford, 1500-1714/Wheeler, John (8)

From volume 4 of the work.
​Wheeler, John, s. Edmund, of Minster Lovell, Oxon, gent. Christ Church, matric. 12 June, 1702, aged 18, student 1702, B.A. 1706, M.A. 1709, B.Med. 1712, D.Med. 1718. See Al. West. 239.
# Alumni Oxonienses: the Members of the University of Oxford, 1500-1714/Wheeler, Luke

From volume 4 of the work.
​Wheeler, Luke, B.A. from Balliol Coll. 19 July (or Oct.), 1612; rector of Hopton Wafers, Salop, 1616, as Lucas. See Foster's Index Eccl.
# Alumni Oxonienses: the Members of the University of Oxford, 1500-1714/Wheeler, Richard

From volume 4 of the work.
​Wheeler, Richard, of London, gent. St. John's Coll., matric. 16 June, 1610, aged 19, B.A. 16 Dec., 1611; student of Middle Temple 1610, as son and heir of Edmund, of London, gent. See Foster's Inns of Court Reg.
# Alumni Oxonienses: the Members of the University of Oxford, 1500-1714/Wheeler, John (9)

From volume 4 of the work.
​Wheeler, John, s. John, of North Morton, Berks, cler. Gloucester Hall, matric. 9 Nov., 1706, aged 16, B.A. 9 March, 1710-11; brother of Devereux.
# Alumni Oxonienses: the Members of the University of Oxford, 1500-1714/Wheeler, Jonas (1)

From volume 4 of the work.
​ Wheeler, Jonas, of Brasenose Coll.; dean of Christ Church, Dublin, and chaplain to James I., bishop of Ossory 1613, until his death 19 April, 1640, aged 79. See Ath. ii. 890; & Cotton's Fasti Ecc. Hib. ii. 278.
# Alumni Oxonienses: the Members of the University of Oxford, 1500-1714/Wheeler, Jonas (2)

From volume 4 of the work.
​Wheeler, Jonas, gent. Magdalen Coll., matric. 18 Nov., 1650, clerk 1649-56, B.A. 6 March, 1651-2, M.A. 17 June, 1654, chaplain 1662-5. See Bloxam, ii. 69.
# All Quiet along the Potomac and other poems/Incorrigible

other versions All Quiet along the Potomac
INCORRIGIBLE.
A GREAT honey-bee bustled over the lea,
Then stopped in a field of white clover
To load up his thigh, till he scarcely could fly
The wide sloping meadow-land over.
He sneered, as he flew, at the dragon-fly blue,
At the swallow so airily winging.
The clear, lazy brook, droning tunes in a nook,
The bobolink, joyfully singing.
As she went on her way, Cloverhead heard him say,
Like a Pharisee noisily praying,
"How well it would be, if the creatures like me
Worked always, and never were playing !
"Yon stream, with a will should be turning a mill;
That dragon-fly, learn to make honey;
That pert bobolink, I do really think,
If he sings, should be singing for money."
So Busy Bee sped, till he bumped his wise head
On a cherry bough whitely in flower;
Fresh, dainty, and fair, sat a butterfly there,
Like a queen in a summer-laid bower.
"O Butterfly gay, have you aught laid away?
Don't you know you're a terrible sinner
To idle your time while yet in your prime,
Having nothing laid up for your dinner?"
Fair Butterfly laughed, as a dewdrop she quaffed
From a cherry-bloom softly unfolding:
"Good-bye, Busy Bee; don't be worrying me
With your lectures and wearisome scolding.
"I fancy He knows that the fair ruddy rose
For a wheat-ear was never intended;
The jewel that burns, as the humming-bird turns,
His hand from the rainbow has blended.
"You work all the day—'tis a honey-bee's way;
The Lord made you homely and busy;
What use would it be for a creature like me
To be grumbling, and work myself dizzy?
"And then, don't you see, you insensible bee,
How our world, made of fibre and feather,
Would say I was queer, stepping out of my sphere,
Strong-minded and wrong altogether?
"I wish you no ill. You work with a will;
But I ll swing, if I like, on a thistle,
Fan faint little flowers in odorous bowers,
And wait for the quail's warning whistle.
"I'll sit in the sun till the summer is done;
But long ere the cold sobbing weather
I'll pack up my clothes in the heart of a rose,
And we'll perish like vagrants together."
# All Quiet along the Potomac and other poems/Gone to the Country

other versions All Quiet along the Potomac
GONE TO THE COUNTRY.
GONE to the country, darling,
Sooner than we had planned,
With a broken rosebud folded
Softly within your hand?
What clothes took you, my darling ?
"My crimson robes made white." Found you the path at midnight?
"The Lamb thereon gives light."
What food upheld you fainting?
"The Tree of Life was there." And were you thirsty never?
"Whoever thirsts drinks there."
And were you lonely, dearest?
"Nay; angels round me pressed,
And Christ, my Elder Brother,
Carried me on His breast.
"And now I ve reached the country
Where storms are all unknown;
The jasper walls are shadowless
Around the shining throne.
"So never mind the daisies
That on the hillside die
To give me room, or rather
Give room for what was 'I.'
"I'll watch the crowd incoming,
Close hov'ring by the gate;
And there, O best beloved!
I'll sing, and praise, and wait."
# All Quiet along the Potomac and other poems/Company K

other versions All Quiet along the Potomac
COMPANY K.
THERE'S a cap in the closet,
Old, tattered, and blue,
That would be little value,
It may be, to you;
But a crown jewel-studded
Could not buy it to-day,
With its letters of honor,
Brave "Company K."
The head that it sheltered
Needs shelter no more;
Dead heroes make holy
The trifles they wore;
So a wreath better winning
Than laurel and bay
Seems the cap of the soldier,
Marked "Company K."
For eyes have looked steady Its visor beneath
O'er the work of the reaper, Whose harvest is Death. Let the muster-roll meagre So mournfully say How foremost in danger Went "Company K "—
Whose footstep unbroken Came up to the town, Where rampart and bastion Looked fearfully down—
Who, closing up breaches, Yet kept on their way, Till guns downward pointing Faced "Company K."
Like cameras fearful Stood cannon aloof,
Till the signal was given To strike off a proof Of the soul of the soldier, To send up to Him. (Pray God that he knew them, Though bloody and dim!)
Who faltered or shivered? Who shunned battle-smoke? Whose fire was uncertain? Whose battle-line broke? ​Go ask it of History Years from to-day, And the record shall tell you, Not "Company K."
Tho' my darling is sleeping To-day with the dead, And daisies and clover Bloom over his head,
I smile, tho' I'm crying As I lay it away, That battle-worn cap
# All Quiet along the Potomac and other poems/Fire-Proof

other versions All Quiet along the Potomac
FIRE-PROOF.
THERE'S a house burned down! Only, gaunt and black, Stands the smoky shaft Of the chimney-stack; And the fireplace small, Where we sat together, Cannot hide us now From the wind and weather. But the twilight talk And the childish chat By yon blistered hearth,— What can burn up that?
All the tender dreams Over hands entwined;
All the parting words Of the souls now shrined; All the faces turned To the firelight red— Faces furrowed now By the Reaper's tread; All the cradle songs To the babies sung; All the girlish mirth On its embers flung, As a gay good-night Promised glad good-morrow, And the happy sleep Had no waking sorrow.
Ah! the falling wall And the flame's hot breath Has for these no doom— Has for these no death.
There's a fire-proof safe None can mar or make, Where we keep them close, For their own dear sake.
So the house may burn, And the chimney fall; In our hearts they lie, Safe and guarded all.
# All Quiet along the Potomac and other poems/Grandma's Christmas

other versions All Quiet along the Potomac
GRANDMA'S CHRISTMAS.
CHRISTMAS gifts for darling grandma— Loving counsel we must take, What to buy to grace her Christmas, What to seek, or choose, or make.
She cares not for gold and silver, Nor the treasures they will buy; Silken robe and shining trinket Folded in their wrappings lie.
Fred shall give her fragrant flowers, Sprays of roses, spikes of bloom; Lilie paint a text beloved To adorn her sunny room.
Hal shall pile in purple clusters, Grapes, the drops of summer's blood Caught by autumn when the sunshine Lanced the glowing summer wood.
I must find some dainty slippers, Lined with fur from toe to heel, Or a coif of something misty That her white hair won't conceal.
**** Christmas gifts for grandma sleeping Not poor gifts of human love; Something sent by thoughtful angels From the Glory up above;
Not the roses freshly gathered
That she loved on earth so well;
But the fadeless bloom of Eden,
Amaranth and asphodel.
Not the shoes of mortal fashion
Wait the weary, wayworn feet;
Shod with peace, they step securely
On that shining upper street.
Not the fabric frail and misty
Resting on the silvered hair,
But the crown He gives his children,
Invisible, yet hovering there.
So comes grandma's Christmas morning,
Dawning soft and silently,
Bringing God's best gifts together,
Christ and Immortality.
# All Quiet along the Potomac and other poems/Human Eyes

other versions All Quiet along the Potomac
HUMAN EYES.
IGROW afraid of human eyes,
Flashing and shining everywhere,
Holding such fearful mystery
Of silent souls in prison there—
Afraid of that sweet, solemn thing
That upward looks from children's eyes,
Wistfully gazing far away,
As tho' homesick for Paradise—
Afraid of eyes, tho' fair they beam,
Starry and dark, or bright and blue;
Crafty and cold, or soft and warm—
All with a soul still looking through;
Peering from out each curtained gate,
Watching beneath the eyelid's fall ;
Asking, answering, quest and glance,
Without a word or breath at all ;
Leaping from quick and busy brain,
Muscle and nerve like serfs obey,
And hasten at the spirit's call
To gather lash and lid away,
Till by the iris' shifting shade
It stops and looks at you and me;
An eye—a soul—or ill or good;
Demon, or angel mystery.
Mentor or siren, friend or foe,
The wily tongue may weave its spell;
But there outlooking stands the soul,
A steadfast tale of truth to tell.
If Anger holds her court within,
Or starry Hope, or bitter Woe,
Or gentle Love, or dewy Faith,
Truth telegraphs the tidings through,
Till mortal eyes no more they seem,
But watching soldiers, sent to stand
Between the body and the soul—
The pickets of the Spirit Land.