OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The World Factbook (1982)/Bermuda
## BERMUDABERMUDA

* (See reference map II)

### LANDLAND

54.4 km$^2$; 8% arable, 60% forested, 21% built on, wasteland, and other, 11% leased for air and naval bases

### WATERWATER

Limits of territorial waters (claimed): 3 nm (fishing 200 nm)
Coastline: 103 km

### PEOPLEPEOPLE

Population: 72,000 (July 1982), average annual growth rate 2.6%
Nationality: noun—Bermudian(s); adjective—Bermudian
Ethnic divisions: approximately 61% black, 39% white
Religion: 37% Church of England, 19% other Protestant, 14% Catholic, 30% other
Language: English
Literacy: 98%
Labor force: 29,669 employed (1980)

### GOVERNMENTGOVERNMENT

Official name: Bermuda
Type: British colony
Capital: Hamilton
Political subdivisions: 9 parishes
Legal system: English law
Branches: Executive Council (cabinet) appointed by governor, led by government leader; bicameral legislature with an appointed Legislative Council and a 40-member directly elected House of Assembly; Supreme Court
Government leaders: Governor Sir Richard POSNETT; Premier John William David SWAN
Suffrage: universal over age 21
​Political parties and leaders: United Bermuda Party (UBP), J. David Gibbons; Progressive Labor Party (PLP), Lois Browne-Evans
Voting strength (1980 elections): UBP 54%, PLP 46%; the UBP holds 22 House of Assembly seats, the PLP holds 18 seats
Communists: negligible
Other political or pressure groups: Bermuda Industrial Union (BIU) headed by Ottiwell Simmons

### ECONOMYECONOMY

GDP: $598 million (FY79/80), $10,894 per capita; real growth rate FY79/80, est. 3%
Agriculture: main products—bananas, vegetables, Easter lilies, dairy products, citrus fruits
Major industries: tourism, finance
Electric power: 110,000 kW capacity (1981); 355 million kWh produced (1981), 5,460 kWh per capita
Exports: $31 million (f.o.b., 1979); mostly reexports of drugs and bunker fuel
Imports: $234 million (f.o.b., 1979); fuel, foodstuffs, machinery
Major trade partners: imports, 50% US; tourists, 90% US
Aid: economic—bilateral commitments, including Ex-Im (1970-80), from US $34 million; from Western (non-US) countries, ODA and OOF (FY70-79), $109 million; no military aid
Budget: revenues, $132 million; expenditures $132 million; (FY81/82)
Monetary conversion rate: 1 Bermuda dollar=US$1
Fiscal year: 1 April-31 March

### COMMUNICATIONSCOMMUNICATIONS

Railroads: none
Highways: 190 km, all paved
Ports: 3 major (Hamilton, St. George Freeport, Ireland Island)
Civil air: 4 major transport aircraft
Airfields: 1 with permanent-surface runways 2,440-3,659 m
Telecommunications: modern telecom system, includes fully automatic telephone system with 39,500 sets (63.7 per 100 popl.); 3 AM, 1 FM, and 2 TV stations; 3 coaxial submarine cables; 1 Atlantic Ocean satellite station
# The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero)/Poetry/Volume 3/The Chain I gave was Fair to view

THE CHAIN I GAVE.
FROM THE TURKISH.
# The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero)/Poetry/Volume 3/The Girl of Cadiz

POEMS 1809—1813.
THE GIRL OF CADIZ.
1.
Oh never talk again to me Of northern climes and British ladies; It has not been your lot to see, Like me, the lovely Girl of Cadiz. Although her eye be not of blue, Nor fair her locks, like English lasses, How far its own expressive hue The languid azure eye surpasses!
2.
Prometheus-like from heaven she stole The fire that through those silken lashes In darkest glances seems to roll,
From eyes that cannot hide their flashes: ​And as along her bosom steal In lengthened flow her raven tresses, You'd swear each clustering lock could feel, And curled to give her neck caresses.
3.
Our English maids are long to woo, And frigid even in possession; And if their charms be fair to view, Their lips are slow at Love's confession; But, born beneath a brighter sun, For love ordained the Spanish maid is, And who,—when fondly, fairly won,— Enchants you like the Girl of Cadiz?
4.
The Spanish maid is no coquette, Nor joys to see a lover tremble And if she love, or if she hate, Alike she knows not to dissemble. Her heart can ne'er be bought or sold— Howe'er it beats, it beats sincerely; And, though it will not bend to gold, 'Twill love you long and love you dearly.
5.
The Spanish girl that meets your love Ne'er taunts you with a mock denial, For every thought is bent to prove Her passion in the hour of trial. ​When thronging foemen menace Spain, She dares the deed and shares the danger; And should her lover press the plain, She hurls the spear, her love's avenger.
6.
And when, beneath the evening star, She mingles in the gay Bolero, Or sings to her attuned guitar Of Christian knight or Moorish hero, Or counts her beads with fairy hand Beneath the twinkling rays of Hesper, Or joins Devotion's choral band, To chaunt the sweet and hallowed vesper;—
7.
In each her charms the heart must move Of all who venture to behold her; Then let not maids less fair reprove Because her bosom is not colder: Through many a clime 'tis mine to roam Where many a soft and melting maid is, But none abroad, and few at home, May match the dark-eyed Girl of Cadiz.
1809. [First published, 1832.]
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Variants
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Notes
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# The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero)/Poetry/Volume 3/To Belshazzar

TO BELSHAZZAR.
1.
Belshazzar! from the banquet turn, Nor in thy sensual fulness fall; ​Behold! while yet before thee burn The graven words, the glowing wall, Many a despot men miscall Crowned and anointed from on high; But thou, the weakest, worst of all— Is it not written, thou must die?
2.
Go! dash the roses from thy brow— Grey hairs but poorly wreathe with them; Youth's garlands misbecome thee now, More than thy very diadem, Where thou hast tarnished every gem:— Then throw the worthless bauble by, Which, worn by thee, ev'n slaves contemn; And learn like better men to die!
3.
Oh! early in the balance weighed, And ever light of word and worth, Whose soul expired ere youth decayed, And left thee but a mass of earth. ​To see thee moves the scorner's mirth: But tears in Hope's averted eye Lament that even thou hadst birth— Unfit to govern, live, or die.
February 12, 1815. [First published, 1831.]
* ↑ 1. The red light glows, the wassail flows, Around the royal hall; And who, on earth, dare mar the mirth Of that high festival? The prophet dares—before thee glows— Belshazzar rise, nor dare despise The writing on the wall! 2. Thy vice might raise th' avenging steel, Thy meanness shield thee from the blow— And they who loathe thee proudly feel.—[MS.]
* ↑ The words of God along the wall.—[MS. erased.] The word of God—the graven wall.—[MS.]
* ↑ Behold it written ——.—[MS.]
* ↑ —— thy sullied diadem.—[MS.]
# The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero)/Poetry/Volume 3/The Spell is broke, the Charm is flown!

THE SPELL IS BROKE, THE CHARM IS FLOWN!
WRITTEN AT ATHENS, JANUARY 16, 1810.
The spell is broke, the charm is flown! Thus is it with Life's fitful fever: We madly smile when we should groan; Delirium is our best deceiver. Each lucid interval of thought Recalls the woes of Nature's charter; And He that acts as wise men ought, But lives—as Saints have died—a martyr.
[MS. M. First published, Childe Harold, 1812 (4to).]
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Variants
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# The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero)/Poetry/Volume 3/Euthanasia

EUTHANASIA.
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# The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero)/Poetry/Volume 3/Farewell! if ever Fondest Prayer

POEMS 1814—1816.
FAREWELL! IF EVER FONDEST PRAYER.
1.
Farewell! if ever fondest prayer For other's weal availed on high, Mine will not all be lost in air, But waft thy name beyond the sky. 'Twere vain to speak—to weep—to sigh: Oh! more than tears of blood can tell, When wrung from Guilt's expiring eye, Are in that word—Farewell!—Farewell!
2.
These lips are mute, these eyes are dry; But in my breast and in my brain, Awake the pangs that pass not by, The thought that ne'er shall sleep again. My soul nor deigns nor dares complain. Though Grief and Passion there rebel: I only know we loved in vain— I only feel—Farewell!—Farewell!
[First published, Corsair, Second Edition, 1814.]
# The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero)/Poetry/Volume 3/Elegiac Stanzas on the Death of Sir Peter Parker, Bart.

ELEGIAC STANZAS ON THE DEATH OF SIR PETER PARKER, BART.
1.
There is a tear for all that die, A mourner o'er the humblest grave; But nations swell the funeral cry, And Triumph weeps above the brave.
2.
For them is Sorrow's purest sigh O'er Ocean's heaving bosom sent: In vain their bones unburied lie, All earth becomes their monument!
3.
A tomb is theirs on every page, An epitaph on every tongue: The present hours, the future age, For them bewail, to them belong.
4.
For them the voice of festal mirth Grows hushed, their name the only sound; While deep Remembrance pours to Worth The goblet's tributary round.
5.
A theme to crowds that knew them not, Lamented by admiring foes, Who would not share their glorious lot? Who would not die the death they chose?
6.
And, gallant Parker! thus enshrined Thy life, thy fall, thy fame shall be; And early valour, glowing, find A model in thy memory.
7.
But there are breasts that bleed with thee In woe, that glory cannot quell; And shuddering hear of victory, Where one so dear, so dauntless, fell.
8.
Where shall they turn to mourn thee less? When cease to hear thy cherished name? Time cannot teach forgetfulness, While Griefs full heart is fed by Fame.
9.
Alas! for them, though not for thee, They cannot choose but weep the more; Deep for the dead the grief must be, Who ne'er gave cause to mourn before.
October 7, 1814. [First published, Morning Chronicle, October 7, 1814.]
* ↑ [Sir P. Parker fell in August, 1814, in his twenty-ninth year, whilst leading a party from his ship, the Menelaus, at the storming of the American camp near Baltimore. He was Byron's first cousin (his father, Christopher Parker (1761-1804), married Charlotte Augusta, daughter of Admiral the Hon. John Byron); but they had never met since boyhood. (See letter to Moore, Letters, 1899, iii. 150; see too Letters, i. 6, note 1.) The stanzas were included in Hebrew Melodies, 1815, and in the Ninth Edition of Childe Harold, 1818.]
* ↑ [Compare Tasso's sonnet— "Questa Tomba non è, che non è morto," etc. Rime Eroiche, Parte Seconda, No. 38, Opere di Torquato Tasso, Venice, 1736, vi. 169.]
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 12/From Jonathan Swift to Philip Stanhope - 2

TO LORD CHESTERFIELD.
I RETURN your lordship my most humble thanks for the honour and favour of your letter; and desire your justice to believe, that, in writing to you a second time, I have no design of giving you a second trouble. My only end at present is, to beg your pardon for a fault of ignorance. I ought to have remembered, that the arts of courts are like those of play; where, if the most expert be absent for a few months, the whole system is so changed, that he has no more skill than a new beginner. Yet I cannot but wish, that your lordship had pleased to forgive one, who has been an utter stranger to publick life above sixteen years. Bussy Rabutin himself, the politest person of his age, when he was recalled to court after a long banishment, appeared ridiculous there: and what could I expect, from my antiquated manner of addressing your lordship, in the prime of your life, in the height of fortune, favour, and merit; so distinguished by your active spirit, and greatness of your genius? I do here repeat to your lordship, that I lay the fault of my misconduct entirely on a friend, whom I exceedingly love and esteem, whom I dare not name, and who is as bad a courtier by nature, as I am grown by want of ​practice. God forbid that your lordship should continue in an employment, however great and honourable, where you only can be an ornament to the court so long, until you have an opportunity to provide offices for a dozen low people like the poor man whom I took the liberty to mention! and God forbid that, in one particular branch of the king's family, there should ever be such a mortality, as to take away a dozen of his meaner servants in less than a dozen years!
Give me leave, in farther excuse of my weakness, to confess, that beside some hints from my friends, your lordship is in great measure to blame for your obliging manner of treating me in every place where I had the honour to see you; which I acknowledge to have been a distinction that I had not the least pretence to, and consequently as little to ground upon it the request of a favour.
As I am an utter stranger to the present forms of the world, I have imagined more than once, that your lordship's proceeding with me may be a refinement introduced by yourself: and that, as in my time the most solemn and frequent promises of great men usually failed, against all probable appearances, so that single slight one of your lordship may, by your generous nature, early succeed against all visible impossibilities. I am, &c.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 12/From Jonathan Swift to Thomas Sheridan - 1

TO DR. SHERIDAN.
IT is impossible to know by your letter whether the wine is to be bottled to morrow, or no.
If it be, or be not, why did not you in plain English tell us so?
For my part, it was by mere chance I came to sit with the ladies this night.
And if they had not told me there was a letter from you, and your man Alexander had not gone, and come back from the deanery, and the boy here had not been sent to let Alexander know I was here, I should have missed the letter outright.
Truly I do not know who is bound to be sending for corks to stop your bottles, with a vengeance.
Make a page of your own age, and send your man ​Alexander to buy corks, for Saunders already has gone above ten jaunts.
Mrs. Dingley and Mrs. Johnson say, truly they do not care for your wife's company, though they like your wine; but they had rather have it at their own house to drink in quiet.
However they own it is very civil in Mr. Sheridan to make the offer; and they cannot deny it.
I wish Alexander safe at St. Katharine's to night, with all my heart and soul, upon my word and honour.
But I think it base in you to send a poor fellow out so late at this time of year, when one would not turn out a dog that one valued; I appeal to your friend Mr. Connor.
I would present my humble service to my lady Mountcashel; but truly I thought she would have made advances to have been acquainted with me, as she pretended.
But now I can write no more, for you see plainly my paper is ended.
P. S. I wish when you prated, Your letter you'd dated, Much plague it created, I scolded and rated, My soul it much grated, For your man I long waited, I think you are fated, Like a bear to be baited: Your man is belated, The case I have stated, And me you have cheated.
​My stable's unslated, Come back t'us well freighted; I remember my late-head, And wish you translated, For teazing me.
2 P. S. Mrs. Dingley Desires me singly Her service to present you, Hopes that will content you; But Johnson madam Is grown a sad dame, For want of your converse, And cannot send one verse.
3 P. S. You keep such a twattling With you and your bottling, But I see the sum total, We shall ne'er have one bottle; The long and the short, We shall not have a quart. I wish you would sign't, That we may have a pint, For all your colloguing, I'd be glad of a knogging: But I doubt 'tis a sham, You won't give us a dram. 'Tis of shine, a mouth moon-full, You won't part with a spoonful, And I must be nimble, If I can fill my thimble. ​You see I won't stop, Till I come to a drop; But I doubt the oraculum Is a poor supernaculum; Tho' perhaps you may tell it For a grace, if we smell it.
STELLA.
* ↑ In this letter, though written in prose, every paragraph ends with a rhime to the foregoing one.
* ↑ Colloguing is a phrase used in Ireland for a specious appearance of kindness without sincerity.
* ↑ Knogging is in Ireland, the name of a measure of liquor answering to the English quartern or gill.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 14/Letter: Pope to Swift - 4

MR. POPE TO DR. SWIFT.
SEPT. 14, 1725.
I NEED not tell you, with what real delight I should have done any thing you desired, and in particular any good offices in my power toward the bearer of your letter, who is this day gone for France. Perhaps it is with poets as with prophets, they are so much better liked in another country than their own, that your gentleman, upon arriving in England, lost his curiosity concerning me. However, had he tried he had found me his friend; I mean he had found me yours. I am disappointed at not knowing better a man whom you esteem, and comfort my self only with having got a letter from you with which (after all) I sit down a gainer; since to my great pleasure it confirms my hope of once more seeing you. After so many dispersions, and so many divisions, two or three of us may yet be gathered together; not to plot, not to contrive silly schemes of ambition, or to vex our own or others hearts with busy vanities (such as perhaps at one time of life or other take their tour in every man) but to divert ourselves, and the world too if it pleases; or at worst, to laugh at others as innocently and as unhurtfully as at ourselves. Your travels I hear much of; my own I promise you shall never more be in a strange land, but a diligent, I hope useful investigation of my own territories. I mean ​no more translations, but something domestick, fit for my own country, and for my own time.
If you come to us I will find you elderly ladies enough that can halloo, and two that can nurse, and they are too old and feeble to make too much noise; as you will guess when I tell you they are my own mother, and my own nurse. I can also help you to a lady who is as deaf, though not so old, as yourself; you will be pleased with one another I will engage, though you do not hear one another: you will converse like spirits by intuition. What you will most wonder at is, she is considerable at court, yet no party woman; and lives in court, yet would be easy and make you easy.
One of those you mention (and I dare say always will remember) Dr. Arbuthnot, is at this time ill of a very dangerous distemper, an imposthume in the bowels; which is broke, but the event is very uncertain. Whatever that be (he bids me tell you, and I write this by him) he lives or dies your faithful friend; and one reason he has to desire a little longer life, is the wish to see you once more.
He is gay enough in this circumstance to tell you he would give you (if he could) such advice as might cure your deafness, but he would not advise you, if you were cured, to quit the pretence of it; because you may by that means hear as much as you will, and answer as little as you please. Believe me
Yours, &c.
* ↑ Gulliver.
* ↑ The Essay on Man.
* ↑ This is the first notice he gives Swift of his great work, and we presume that Swift certainly could but guess at the subject.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 14/Letter: Pope to Swift - 7

MR. POPE TO DR. SWIFT.
AUG. 22, 1726.
MANY a short sigh you cost me the day I left you, and many more you will cost me, till the day you return. I really walked about like a man banished, and when I came home, found it no home. It is a sensation like that of a limb lopped off, one ​is trying every minute unawares to use it, and finds it is not. I may say you have used me more cruelly than you have done any other man: you have made it more impossible for me to live at ease without you: habitude itself would have done that, if I had less friendship in my nature than I have. Beside my natural memory of you, you have made a local one, which presents you to me in every place I frequent: I shall never more think of lord Cobham's, the woods of Ciceter, or the pleasing prospect of Byberry, but your idea must be joined with them; nor see one seat in my own garden, or one room in my own house, without a phantome of you, sitting or walking before me. I travelled with you to Chester, I felt the extreme heat of the weather, the inns, the roads, the confinement and closeness of the uneasy coach, and wished a hundred times I had either a deanery or horse in my gift. In real truth, I have felt my soul peevish ever since with all about me, from a warm uneasy desire after you. I am gone out of myself to no purpose, and cannot catch you, Inhiat in pedes was not more properly applied to a poor dog after a hare, than to me with regard to your departure. I wish I could think no more of it, but lie down and sleep till we meet again, and let that day (how far soever off it be) be the morrow. Since I cannot, may it be my amends that every thing you wish may attend you where you are, and that you may find every friend you have there, in the state you wish him, or her; so that your visits to us may have no other effect, than the progress of a rich man to a remote estate, which he finds greater than he expected; which knowledge only serves to make him live happier where he is, with no disagreeable ​prospect if ever he should choose to remove. May this be your state till it become what I wish. But indeed I cannot express the warmth, with which I wish you all things, and myself you. Indeed you are engraved elsewhere than on the cups you sent me, (with so kind an inscription) and I might throw them into the Thames without injury to the giver. I am not pleased with them, but take them very kindly too: and had I suspected any such usage from you, I should have enjoyed your company less than I really did, for at this rate I may say
Nec tecum possum vivere, nee sinc te.
I will bring you over just such another present, when I go to the deanery of St. Patrick's; which I promise you to do, if ever I am enabled to return your kindness. Donarum pateras, &c. Till then I'll drink (or Gay shall drink) daily healths to you, and I will add to your inscription the old Roman vow for years to come, VOTIS X. VOTIS XX. My mother's age gives me authority to hope it for yours. Adieu.