OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# M-21-16 Memorandum for Heads of Executive Departments and Agencies

Published 2021-02-26. Cf. Executive Order on the Revocation of Certain Presidential Actions and Statement from Acting OMB Director Robert Fairweather Budgetary Impact Analysis for Executive Order Entitled “Revocation of Certain Presidential Actions”.
February 26, 2021
M-21-16
MEMORANDUM FOR HEADS OF EXECUTIVE DEPARTMENTS AND AGENCIES
FROM: Robert F. Fairweather Acting Director
SUBJECT: Revoking M-20-36
On February 24, 2021, the President signed an Executive Order entitled “Executive Order on the Revocation of Certain Presidential Actions” (Executive Order). The Executive Order revoked the Presidential Memorandum of September 2, 2020, “Reviewing Funding to State and Local Government Recipients of Federal Funds That Are Permitting Anarchy, Violence, and Destruction in American Cities.”
Section 2 of the Executive Order directed the Director of the Office of Management and Budget and the heads of executive departments and agencies to “promptly consider taking steps to rescind any orders, rules, regulations, guidelines, or policies, or portions thereof, implementing or enforcing the Presidential actions identified in section 1 of this order, as appropriate and consistent with applicable law, including the Administrative Procedure Act, 5 U.S.C. 551 et seq.” The Executive Order further directed that “any personnel positions, committees, task forces, or other entities established pursuant to the Presidential actions identified in section 1 of this order shall be abolished, as appropriate and consistent with applicable law.”
Pursuant to this directive, OMB Memorandum M-20-36, “Implementation of Section 2 of Memorandum on Reviewing Funding to State and Local Government Recipients of Federal Funds That Are Permitting Anarchy, Violence, and Destruction in American Cities” (September 21, 2020) is hereby revoked. To the extent that your department or agency has taken action to implement or enforce the September 21 Presidential Memorandum, including through contract terms, notices of funding availability, or otherwise, please promptly consider revoking or rescinding those actions pursuant to Section 2 of the Executive Order.
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
# Mardi/Volume II/Chapter XXX

It was yet moonlight when we pushed from the islet. But soon, the sky grew dun; the moon went into a cavern among the clouds; and by that secret sympathy between our hearts and the elements, the thoughts of all but Media became overcast.
Again discourse was had of that dark intelligence from Mondoldo,—the fell murder of Taji's follower.
Said Mohi, "Those specter sons of Aleema must have been the assassins."
"They harbored deadly malice," said Babbalanja.
"Which poor Jarl's death must now have sated," sighed Yoomy.
"Then all the happier for Taji," said Media. "But away with gloom! because the sky is clouded, why cloud your brows? Babbalanja, I grieve the moon is gone. Yet start some paradox, that we may laugh. Say a woman is a man, or you yourself a stork."
At this they smiled. When hurtling came an arrow, which struck our stern, and quivered. Another! and another! Grazing the canopy, they darted by, and hissing, dived like red-hot bars beneath the waves.
Starting, we beheld a corruscating wake, tracking the course of a low canoe, far flying for a neighboring mountain. The next moment it was lost within the mountain's shadow and pursuit was useless.
"Let us fly!" cried Yoomy
"Peace! What murderers these?" said Media, calmly; "whom can they seek?—you, Taji?"
"The three avengers fly three bolts," said Babbalanja. "See if the arrow yet remain astern," cried Media.
They brought it to him.
"By Oro! Taji on the barb!"
"Then it missed its aim. But I will not mine. And whatever arrows follow, still will I hunt on. Nor does the ghost, that these pale specters would avenge, at all disquiet me. The priest I slew, but to gain her, now lost; and I would slay again, to bring her back. Ah, Yillah! Yillah."
All started.
Then said Babbalanja, "Aleema's sons raved not; 'tis true, then, Taji, that an evil deed gained you your Yillah: no wonder she is lost."
Said Media, unconcernedly, "Perhaps better, Taji, to have kept your secret; but tell no more; I care not to be your foe."
"Ah, Taji! I had shrank from you," cried Yoomy, "but for the mark upon your brow. That undoes the tenor of your words. But look, the stars come forth, and who are these? A waving Iris! ay, again they come:— Hautia's heralds!"
They brought a black thorn, buried in withered rose-balm blossoms, red and blue.
Said Yoomy, "For that which stings, there is no cure,"
"Who, who is Hautia, that she stabs me thus?"
"And this wild sardony mocks your misery."
"Away! ye fiends."
"Again a Venus car; and lo! a wreath of strawberries!—Yet fly to me, and be garlanded with joys."
"Let the wild witch laugh. She moves me not. Neither hurtling arrows nor Circe flowers appall."
Said Yoomy, "They wait reply."
"Tell your Hautia, that I know her not; nor care to know. I defy her incantations; she lures in vain. Yillah! Yillah! still I hope!"
Slowly they departed; heeding not my cries no more to follow.
Silence, and darkness fell.
# Margaret Fuller Ossoli (Higginson)

Boston: Houghton, Mifflin and Company, page +
American Men of Letters.
EDITED BY
CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER.
American Men of Letters.
MARGARET FULLER OSSOLI.
BY
THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON.
BOSTON: HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY. New York: 11 East Seventeenth Street. The Riverside Press, Cambridge. 1884.
Copyright, 1884, By THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON.
All rights reserved.
The Riverside Press, Cambridge:
Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Co.
CONTENTS.
Page :
| I. | Introductory | 1 |
| II. | Hereditary Traits | 7 |
| III. | Girlhood at Cambridge | 20 |
| IV. | Country Life at Groton | 43 |
| V. | Finding a Friend | 62 |
| VI. | School-Teaching in Boston and Providence | 75 |
| VII. | Suburban Life at Jamaica Plain | 94 |
| VIII. | Conversations in Boston | 109 |
| IX. | A Literary Club and its Organ | 130 |
| X. | The Dial | 154 |
| XI. | Brook Farm | 173 |
| XII. | Books Published | 187 |
| XIII. | Business Life in New York | 205 |
| XIV. | European Travel | 220 |
| XV. | Marriage and Motherhood | 232 |
| XVI. | Letters between Husband and Wife | 248 |
| XVII. | Closing Scenes | 266 |
| XVIII. | Literary Traits | 281 |
| XIX. | Personal Traits | 299 |
| Bibliographical Appendix | Bibliographical Appendix | 315 |
| Index | Index | 319 |
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
# Marconi Wireless Telegraph Company of America v. United States

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
320 U.S. 1
Marconi Wireless Telegraph Company of America v. United States
Argued: April 9-12, 1943. --- Decided: June 21, 1943
See 320 U.S. --, 64 S.Ct. 25, 88 L.Ed. --.
[Syllabus from pages 1-3 intentionally omitted] Mr. Stephen H. Philbin, of New York City, for Marconi
Wireless telegraph co.
Mr. Francis M. Shea, Asst. Atty. Gen., for the United States.
Mr. Chief Justice STONE 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
# Marcus Aurelius (Haines 1916)/Advertisements

Layout 2
LOEB CLASSICAL LIBRARY
VOLUMES ALREADY PUBLISHED.
Latin Authors.
APULEIUS. The Golden Ass. (Metamorphoses.) W. Adlington (1566). Revised by S. Gaselee. 1 Vol.
CÆSAR: CIVIL WARS. Trans, by A. G. Peskett. 1 Vol.
CATULLUS. Trans, by F. W. Cornish; TIBILLUS. Trans, by J. P. Postgate; PERVIGILIUM VENERIS. Trans, by J. W. Mackail. 1 Vol.
CICERO: DE FINIBUS. Trans, by H. Rackham. 1 Vol.
CICERO: DE OFFICIIS. Trans, by Walter Miller. 1 Vol.
CICERO: LETTERS TO ATTICUS. Trans, by E. O. Winstedt. Vols. I and II.
CONFESSIONS OF ST. AUGUSTINE. Trans, by W. Watts (1631). 2 Vols.
HORACE: ODES AND EPODES. Trans, by C. E. Bennett. 1. Vol.
OVID: HEROIDES AND AMORES. Trans, by Grant Showerman. 1 Vol.
PETRONIUS. Trans, by M. Heseltine; SENECA: APOCOLOCYNTOSIS. Trans, by W. H. D. Rouse. 1 Vol.
PLINY. LETTERS. Melmoth's Translation revised by W. M. L. Hutchinson. 2 Vols.
PROPERTIUS. Trans, by H. E. Butler. 1 Vol.
SUETONIUS. Trans, by J. C. Rolfe. 2 Vols.
TACITUS: DIALOGUS. Trans, by Sir Win. Peterson; AGRICOLA AND GERMANIA. Trans, by Maurice Hutton. 1 Vol.
TERENCE. Trans, by John Sargeaunt. 2 Vols.
Greek Authors.
APOLLOXIUS RHODIUS. Trans, by R. C. Seaton. 1 Vol.
THE APOSTOLIC FATHERS. Trans, by Kirsopp Lake. 2 Vols.
APPIAN S ROMAN HISTORY. Trans, by Horace White. 4 Vols.
DIO CASSIUS : ROMAN HISTORY. Trans, by E. Gary. Vols. I, II, and III.
EURIPIDES. Trans, by A. S. Way. 4 Vols.
THE GREEK BUCOLIC POETS (THEOCRITUS, BION, MOSCHUS). Trans, by J. M. Edmonds. 1 Vol.
HESIOD AND THE HOMERIC HYMNS. Trans, by H. G. Evelyn-White. 1 Vol.
JULIAN. Trans, by Wilmer Cave Wright. Vols. I and II.
LUCIAN. Trans, by A. M. Harmon. Vols. I and II.
PHILOSTRATUS : THE LIFE OF APOLLONIUS OF TYANA. Trans, by F. C. Conybeare. 2 Vols.
PINDAR. Trans, by Sir J. E. Sandys. 1 Vol.
PLATO : EUTHYPHRO, APOLOGY, CRITO, PHÆDO, PHÆEDRUS. Trans, by H. N. Fowler. 1 Vol.
PLUTARCH : THE PARALLEL LIVES. Trans, by B. Perrin. Vols. I and II.
PROCOPIUS. Trans, by H. B. Dewing. Vol. I.
QUINTUS SMYRNÆUS. Trans, by A. S. Way. 1 Vol.
SOPHOCLES. Trans, by F. Storr. 2 Vols.
ST. JOHN DAMASCENE. : BARLAAM AND IOASAPH. Trans, by the Rev. G. R. Woodward and Harold Mattingly. 1 Vol.
XENOPHON : CYROPÆDIA. Trans, by Walter Miller. 2 Vols.
DESCRIPTIVE PROSPECTUS ON APPLICATION.
LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN. NEW YORK: G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS.
# Marco Bozzaris

"Markos Botsaris was a chieftain of the Souliotes and hero of the Greek War of Independence, and general of the Greek army. … Today Botsaris is among the most revered national heroes in Greece." Warning: template has been deprecated.
* "Marco Bozzaris" in The Poetical Writings of Fitz-Greene Halleck (1869)
* "Marco Bozzaris" in Poems That Every Child Should Know (1904)
# Marconi Wireless Telegraph Company of America v. Simon

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
246 U.S. 46
Marconi Wireless Telegraph Company of America v. Simon
Argued: Jan. 29, 1918. --- Decided: March 4, 1918
[Syllabus from page 46 intentionally omitted]
Messrs. L. F. H. Betts, John W. Griggs, Richard A. Ford, and James R. Sheffield, all of New York City, for petitioner.
[Argument for Council on pages 47-50 intentionally omitted.]
Messrs. Walter H. Pumphrey, Zell G. Roe and Harry Lea Dodson, all of New York City, for respondent.
[Argument of Counsel from pages 50-53 intentionally omitted]
Mr. Chief Justice WHITE 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
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 138/Issue 1780/"Wir sassen am Fischerhause"

* "WIR SASSEN AM FISCHERHAUSE."
* TRANSLATION FROM HEINE.
* We sat by the fisherman's cottage,
* And we looked out over the fiord;
* The evening mists spread round us,
* And upwards and upwards soared.
* All at once the lights in the lighthouse
* Were lit up, and flashed out wide,
* And far away in the offing
* A ship might still be descried.
* We talked of tempest and shipwreck;
* Of the sailor, and how he fares —
* How he vibrates 'twixt wind and water,
* 'Twixt pleasure and toilsome cares.
* We talked of far-away regions,
* Both in north and in south that were;
* Of all the singular peoples,
* And singular customs there.
* There are giant woods on the Ganges,
* And sunshine and fragrant bowers,
* And stately, serene men kneel there
* Before the lotus flowers.
* In Lapland, the natives are filthy,
* Flat headed, broad-mouthed, and small;
* They cower round their fires, and bake there
* Their fish, and jobber and squall.
* The girls they listened intently,
* And at last no one spoke any more;
* The ship could be sighted no longer,
* The night had sunk down on the shore.
* Blackwood's Magazine.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 138/Issue 1780

LITTELL'S LIVING AGE.
| Fifth Series, Volume XXIII. | $\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,$ | No. 1780. — July 27, 1878. | $\scriptstyle {\left\{{\begin{matrix}\ \end{matrix}}\right.}$ | From Beginning Vol. CXXXVIII. |
CONTENTS. :
| I. | The Church in the West Riding, | Quarterly Review, | 195 |
| II. | The Ferry of Carnoet. A Breton Beggar's Story. By the author of "Patty", | Advance Sheets, | 211 |
| III. | Broadmoor, and our Criminal Lunatics, | Macmillan's Magazine, | 215 |
| IV. | Captain Dover's Cotswold Games, | Cornhill Magazine, | 220 |
| V. | Daisy Miller: a Study. Conclusion, | Cornhill Magazine, | 226 |
| VI. | The English Admirals, | Cornhill Magazine, | 241 |
| VII. | Criticism and Creation, | Macmillan's Magazine, | 246 |
| VIII. | Mr. Disraeli on Whist, | Spectator, | 255 |
POETRY. :
| A Touch of Pity, | 194 | "Wir sassen am Fischerhause", | 194 |
| Deserted, | 194 | |
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 138/Issue 1780/A Touch of Pity

* A TOUCH OF PITY.
* Forth they set at early morn,
* Happy in their hope,
* Adown the path and through the corn,
* And by a grassy slope;
* Then o'er a stretch of clean sea-sand,
* And reached a slippery pier;
* And there the brother raised his hand,
* And said, "We'll cast lines here."
* And, oh, the tremor of her heart
* As tackle straight he set!
* She deemed her brother had more art
* Than any angler yet.
* And at each bite she felt a glow
* Of pride, that made her speak
* In louder tones; there came a flow
* Of blood to either cheek.
* At last a catch! the silvery sides
* Came twinkling o'er the pier —
* She shrieked with joy; but soon the tides
* Of joy were changed to fear
* As full she looked upon the thing
* That writhed before her eyes,
* The heart felt for its suffering,
* She burst in tears and sighs!
* And all her day was clouded dim
* With thoughts she could not speak;
* The voice was low; she stood by him,
* But pale was now her cheek.
* Her first glimpse of the ill and pain
* That haunts the world, that day
* Disturbed her heart, and ne'er again
* Will she so gladly play.
* Ah, little maid, that mystery
* O'ershadows all our work,
* And unto many, as to thee,
* Has turned the bright to dark.
* Good Words.E. Conder Gray.
# Max Havelaar (Nahuijs)/Motto

Layout 2
(Unpublished Play.)
# Max Havelaar (Nahuijs)/Dedication

Layout 2
To
Everdine Huberte, Baroness Wÿnbergen.
“J’ai souvent entendu plaindre les femmes de poëte, et sans doute, pour tenir dignement dans la vie ce difficile emploi, aucune qualité n’est de trop. Le plus rare ensemble de mérites n’est que le strict nécessaire, et ne suffit même pas toujours au commun bonheur. Voir sans cesse la muse en tiers dans vos plus familiers entretiens,—recueillir dans ses bras et soigner ce poëte qui est votre mari, quand il vous revient meurtri par les déceptions de sa tâche;—ou bien le voir s’envoler à la poursuite de sa chimère. . . voilà l’ordinaire de l’existence pour une femme de poëte. Oui, mais aussi il y a le chapître des compensations, l’heure des lauriers qu’il a gagnés à la sueur de son génie, et qu’il dépose pieusement aux pieds de la femme légitimement aimée, aux genoux de l’Antigone qui sert de guide en ce monde à cet ‘aveugle errant;’—
“Car, ne vous-y-trompez pas: presque tous les petits-fils d’Homère sont plus ou moins aveugles à leur façon;—ils voient ce que nous ne voyons pas; leurs regards pénètrent plus haut et plus au fond que les nôtres; mais ils ne savent pas voir droit devant eux leur petit bonhomme de chemin, et il seraient capables de trébucher et de se casser le nez sur le moindre caillou, s’il leur fallait cheminer sans soutien, dans ces vallées de prose où demeure la vie.”
(Henry de Pène.)
# Mardi/Volume I/Chapter LXXXV

As in dreams I behold thee again, Willamila! as in dreams, once again I stroll through thy cool shady groves, oh fairest of the vallies of Mardi! the thought of that mad merry feasting steals over my soul till I faint.
Prostrate here and there over the bones of Donjalolo's sires, the royal bacchanals lay slumbering till noon.
"Which are the deadest?" said Babbalanja, peeping in, "the live kings, or the dead ones?"
But the former were drooping flowers sought to be revived by watering. At intervals the sedulous attendants went to and fro, besprinkling their heads with the scented contents of their vases.
At length, one by one, the five-and-twenty kings lifted their ambrosial curls; and shaking the dew therefrom, like eagles opened their right royal eyes, and dilated their aquiline nostrils, full upon the golden rays of the sun.
But why absented himself, Donjalolo? Had he cavalierly left them to survive the banquet by themselves? But this apparent incivility was soon explained by heralds, announcing to their prone majesties, that through the over solicitude of his slaves, their lord the king had been borne to his harem, without being a party to the act. But to make amends, in his sedan, Donjalolo was even now drawing nigh. Not, however, again to make merry; but socially to sleep in company with his guests; for, together they had all got high, and together they must all lie low.
So at it they went: each king to his bones, and slumbered like heroes till evening; when, availing themselves of the cool moonlight approaching, the royal guests bade adieu to their host; and summoning their followers, quitted the glen.
Early next day, having determined to depart for our canoes, we proceeded to the House of the Morning, to take leave of Donjalolo.
An amazing change, one night of solitude had wrought! Pale and languid, we found him reclining: one hand on his throbbing temples.
Near an overturned vessel of wine, the royal girdle lay tossed at his feet. He had waved off his frightened attendants, who crouched out of sight.
We advanced.
"Do ye too leave me? Ready enough are ye to partake of my banquetings, which, to such as ye, are but mad incidents in one round of more tranquil diversions. But heed me not, Media;—I am mad. Oh, ye gods! am I forever a captive?—Ay, free king of Odo, when you list, condescend to visit the poor slave in Willamilla. I account them but charity, your visits; would fain allure ye by sumptuous fare. Go, leave me; go, and be rovers again throughout blooming Mardi. For, me, I am here for aye.—Bring me wine, slaves! quick! that I may pledge my guests fitly. Alas, Media, at the bottom of this cup are no sparkles as at top. Oh, treacherous, treacherous friend! full of smiles and daggers. Yet for such as me, oh wine, thou art e'en a prop, though it pierce the side; for man must lean. Thou wine art the friend of the friendless, though a foe to all. King Media, let us drink. More cups!—And now, farewell."
Falling back, he averted his face; and silently we quitted the palace.
# Mardi/Volume I/Chapter LXXXVII

Still onward gliding, the lagoon a calm.
Hours pass; and full before us, round and green, a Moslem turban by us floats—Nora-Bamma, Isle of Nods.
Noon-tide rolls its flood. Vibrates the air, and trembles. And by illusion optical, thin-draped in azure haze, drift here and there the brilliant lands: swans, peacock-plumaged, sailing through the sky. Down to earth hath heaven come; hard telling sun-clouds from the isles.
And high in air nods Nora-Bamma. Nid-nods its tufted summit like three ostrich plumes; its beetling crags, bent poppies, shadows, willowy shores, all nod; its streams are murmuring down the hills; its wavelets hush the shore.
Who dwells in Nora-Bamma? Dreamers, hypochondriacs, somnambulists; who, from the cark and care of outer Mardi fleeing, in the poppy's jaded odors, seek oblivion for the past, and ecstasies to come.
Open-eyed, they sleep and dream; on their roof-trees, grapes unheeded drop. In Nora-Bamma, whispers are as shouts; and at a zephyr's breath, from the woodlands shake the leaves, as of humming-birds, a flight.
All this spake Braid-Beard, of the isle. How that none ere touched its strand, without rendering instant tribute of a nap; how that those who thither voyaged, in golden quest of golden gourds, fast dropped asleep, ere one was plucked; waking not till night; how that you must needs rub hard your eyes, would you wander through the isle; and how that silent specters would be met, haunting twilight groves, and dreamy meads; hither gliding, thither fading, end or purpose none.
True or false, so much for Mohi's Nora Bamma.
But as we floated on, it looked the place described. We yawned, and yawned, as crews of vessels may; as in warm Indian seas, their winnowing sails all swoon, when by them glides some opium argosie.
# Mardi/Volume I/Chapter VII

Good old Arcturion! Maternal craft; that rocked me so often in thy heart of oak, I grieve to tell how I deserted thee on the broad deep. So far from home, with such a motley crew, so many islanders, whose heathen babble echoing through thy Christian hull, must have grated harshly on every carline.
Old ship! where sails thy lone ghost now? For of the stout Arcturion no word was ever heard, from the dark hour we pushed from her fated planks. In what time of tempest, to what seagull's scream, the drowning eddies did their work, knows no mortal man. Sunk she silently, helplessly, into the calm depths of that summer sea, assassinated by the ruthless blade of the swordfish? Such things have been. Or was hers a better fate? Stricken down while gallantly battling with the blast; her storm-sails set; helm manned; and every sailor at his post; as sunk the Hornet, her men at quarters, in some distant gale.
But surmises are idle. A very old craft, she may have foundered; or laid her bones upon some treacherous reef; but as with many a far rover, her fate is a mystery.
Pray Heaven, the spirit of that lost vessel roaming abroad through the troubled mists of midnight gales—as old mariners believe of missing ships—may never haunt my future path upon the waves. Peacefully may she rest at the bottom of the sea; and sweetly sleep my shipmates in the lowest watery zone, where prowling sharks come not, nor billows roll.
By quitting the Arcturion when we did, Jarl and I unconsciously eluded a sailor's grave. We hear of providential deliverances. Was this one? But life is sweet to all, death comes as hard. And for myself I am almost tempted to hang my head, that I escaped the fate of my shipmates; something like him who blushed to have escaped the fell carnage at Thermopylae.
Though I can not repress a shudder when I think of that old ship's end, it is impossible for me so much as to imagine, that our deserting her could have been in any way instrumental in her loss. Nevertheless, I would to heaven the Arcturion still floated; that it was given me once more to tread her familiar decks.