OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Poems (Wordsworth, 1815)/Volume 1/The Affliction of —

XIX.
THE AFFLICTION
OF
MARGARET —— OF ——
Where art thou, my beloved Son, Where art thou, worse to me than dead? Oh find me, prosperous or undone! Or, if the grave be now thy bed, Why am I ignorant of the same That I may rest; and neither blame Nor sorrow may attend thy name?
Seven years, alas! to have received No tidings of an only child; To have despaired, and have believed, And be for evermore beguiled; Sometimes with thoughts of very bliss! I catch at them, and then I miss; Was ever darkness like to this?
​He was among the prime in worth, An object beauteous to behold; Well born, well bred; I sent him forth Ingenuous, innocent, and bold: If things ensued that wanted grace, As hath been said, they were not base; And never blush was on my face.
Ah! little doth the Young One dream, When full of play and childish cares, What power hath even his wildest scream, Heard by his Mother unawares! He knows it not, he cannot guess: Years to a Mother bring distress; But do not make her love the less.
Neglect me! no, I suffer'd long From that ill thought; and, being blind, Said, "Pride shall help me in my wrong: Kind mother have I been, as kind As ever breathed:" and that is true; I've wet my path with tears like dew, Weeping for him when no one knew.
​My Son, if thou be humbled, poor, Hopeless of honour and of gain, Oh! do not dread thy mother's door; Think not of me with grief and pain: I now can see with better eyes; And worldly grandeur I despise, And fortune with her gifts and lies.
Alas! the fowls of Heaven have wings, And blasts of Heaven will aid their flight; They mount, how short a voyage brings The Wanderers back to their delight! Chains tie us down by land and sea; And wishes, vain as mine, may be All that is left to comfort thee.
Perhaps some dungeon hears thee groan, Maimed, mangled by inhuman men; Or thou upon a Desart thrown Inheritest the Lion's Den; Or hast been summoned to the Deep, Thou, Thou and all thy mates, to keep An incommunicable sleep.
​I look for Ghosts; but none will force Their way to me; 'tis falsely said That there was ever intercourse Betwixt the living and the dead; For, surely, then I should have sight Of Him I wait for day and night, With love and longings infinite.
My apprehensions come in crowds; I dread the rustling of the grass; The very shadows of the clouds Have power to shake me as they pass: I question things, and do not find One that will answer to my mind; And all the world appears unkind.
Beyond participation lie My troubles, and beyond relief: If any chance to heave a sigh They pity me, and not my grief. Then come to me, my Son, or send Some tidings that my woes may end; I have no other earthly friend.
# The Affliction of —

* "The Affliction of Margaret", in Poems, in Two Volumes (1807)
* "The Affliction of —", in Poems (1815)
# The Kitten and the Falling Leaves

* "The Kitten and the falling Leaves", in Poems, in Two Volumes (1807)
* "The Kitten and falling Leaves", in Poems (1815)
# Poems, in Two Volumes (Wordsworth, 1807)/Volume 1/The Kitten and the falling Leaves

THE KITTEN AND THE FALLING LEAVES.
# Poems, in Two Volumes (Wordsworth, 1807)/Volume 1/The Seven Sisters, or the Solitude of Binnorie

THE SEVEN SISTERS,
OR
THE SOLITUDE OF BINNŎRIE.
# One Hundred English Folksongs/Barbara Ellen

7 Barbara Ellen
Collected and arranged by Cecil J. Sharp
# The Seven Sisters, or the Solitude of Binnorie

* "The Seven Sisters, or the Solitude of Binnorie", in Poems, in Two Volumes (1807)
* "The seven Sisters", in Poems (1815)
# Poems (Wordsworth, 1815)/Volume 1/The seven Sisters

XVI.
THE SEVEN SISTERS,
OR
THE SOLITUDE OF BINNORIE.
Seven Daughters had Lord Archibald, All Children of one Mother: I could not say in one short day What love they bore each other. A Garland of seven Lilies wrought! Seven Sisters that together dwell; But he, bold Knight as ever fought, Their Father, took of them no thought, He loved the Wars so well. Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully, The Solitude of Binnorie!
​Fresh blows the wind, a western wind, And from the shores of Erin, Across the wave, a Rover brave To Binnorie is steering: Right onward to the Scottish strand The gallant ship is borne; The Warriors leap upon the land, And hark! the Leader of the Band Hath blown his bugle horn. Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully, The Solitude of Binnorie.
Beside a Grotto of their own, With boughs above them closing, The Seven are laid, and in the shade They lie like Fawns reposing. But now, upstarting with affright At noise of Man and Steed, Away they fly to left to right— Of your fair household, Father Knight, Methinks you take small heed! Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully, The Solitude of Binnorie.
​Away the seven fair Campbells fly, And, over Hill and Hollow, With menace proud, and insult loud, The youthful Rovers follow. Cried they, "Your Father loves to roam: Enough for him to find The empty House when he comes home; For us your yellow ringlets comb, For us be fair and kind!" Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully, The Solitude of Binnorie.
Some close behind, some side by side, Like clouds in stormy weather, They run, and cry, "Nay let us die, And let us die together." A Lake was near; the shore was steep; There never foot had been; They ran, and with a desperate leap Together plunged into the deep, Nor ever more were seen. Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully, The Solitude of Binnorie.
​The Stream that flows out of the Lake, As through the glen it rambles, Repeats a moan o'er moss and stone, For those seven lovely Campbells. Seven little Islands, green and bare, Have risen from out the deep: The Fishers say, those Sisters fair By Faeries are all buried there, And there together sleep. Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully, The Solitude of Binnorie.
# Poems, in Two Volumes (Wordsworth, 1807)/Volume 1/To H. C., six Years old

To H. C.,
SIX YEARS OLD.
# Poems (Wordsworth, 1815)/Volume 1/To H. C.

XIV.
To H. C.,
SIX YEARS OLD.
O Thou! whose fancies from afar are brought; Who of thy words dost make a mock apparel, And fittest to unutterable thought The breeze-like motion and the self-born carol; Thou faery Voyager! that dost float In such clear water, that thy Boat May rather seem To brood on air than on an earthly stream; Suspended in a stream as clear as sky, Where earth and heaven do make one imagery; blessed Vision! happy Child! That art so exquisitely wild, I think of thee with many fears For what may be thy lot in future years.
​I thought of times when Pain might be thy guest, Lord of thy house and hospitality; And Grief, uneasy Lover! never rest But when she sate within the touch of thee. Oh! too industrious folly! Oh! vain and causeless melancholy! Nature will either end thee quite; Or, lengthening out thy season of delight, Preserve for thee, by individual right, A young Lamb's heart among the full-grown flocks. What hast Thou to do with sorrow, Or the injuries of to-morrow? Thou art a Dew-drop, which the morn brings forth, Not framed to undergo unkindly shocks; Or to be trailed along the soiling earth; A gem that glitters while it lives, And no forewarning gives; But, at the touch of wrong, without a strife Slips in a moment out of life.
# One Hundred English Folksongs/The Unquiet Grave

24 The Unquiet Grave or Cold blows the wind
Collected and arranged by Cecil J. Sharp
# To H. C., six Years old

The 'H. C.' of the title is Hartley Coleridge, son of Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
* "To H. C., six Years old", in Poems, in Two Volumes (1807)
* "To H. C.", in Poems (1815)
# Poems (Wordsworth, 1815)/Volume 1/I travell'd among unknown Men

IX.
I travell'd among unknown Men, In Lands beyond the Sea; Nor, England! did I know till then What love I bore to thee.
'Tis past, that melancholy dream! Nor will I quit thy shore A second time; for still I seem To love thee more and more.
Among thy mountains did I feel The joy of my desire; And She I cherished turned her wheel Beside an English fire.
Thy mornings shewed, thy nights concealed The bowers where Lucy played; And thine is too the last green field That Lucy's eyes surveyed.
# I travell'd among unknown Men

* "I travell'd among unknown Men", in Poems, in Two Volumes (1807)
* "I travell'd among unknown Men", in Poems (1815)
* "I travell'd among unknown Men" in the Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900 (1931), edited by Arthur Quiller-Couch
* "I travell'd among unknown Men" in the Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918 (1940), edited by Arthur Quiller-Couch
# Poems, in Two Volumes (Wordsworth, 1807)/Volume 1/Ode to Duty

ODE TO DUTY.
# Ode to Duty

* "Ode to Duty", in Poems, in Two Volumes (1807)
* "Ode to Duty", in Poems (1815)
# Poems (Wordsworth, 1815)/Volume 2/Ode to Duty

XXV.
ODE TO DUTY.
Stern Daughter of the Voice of God! O Duty! if that name thou love Who art a Light to guide, a Rod To check the erring, and reprove; Thou who art victory and law When empty terrors overawe; From vain temptations dost set free; And calm'st the weary strife of frail humanity!
There are who ask not if thine eye Be on them; who, in love and truth, Where no misgiving is, rely Upon the genial sense of youth: Glad Hearts! without reproach or blot; Who do thy work, and know it not: May joy be theirs while life shall last! And Thou, if they should totter, teach them to stand fast!
​Serene will be our days and bright, And happy will our nature be, When love is an unerring light, And joy its own security. And blest are they who in the main This faith, even now, do entertain: Live in the spirit of this creed; Yet find that other strength, according to their need.
I, loving freedom, and untried; No sport of every random gust, Yet being to myself a guide, Too blindly have reposed my trust: Full oft, when in my heart was heard Thy timely mandate, I deferred The task imposed, from day to day; But thee I now would serve more strictly, if I may.
Through no disturbance of my soul, Or strong compunction in me wrought, I supplicate for thy control; But in the quietness of thought: Me this unchartered freedom tires; I feel the weight of chance-desires: My hopes no more must change their name, I long for a repose which ever is the same.
​Stern Lawgiver! yet thou dost wear The Godhead's most benignant grace; Nor know we any thing so fair As is the smile upon thy face: Flowers laugh before thee on their beds; And Fragrance in thy footing treads; Thou dost preserve the Stars from wrong; And the most ancient Heavens through Thee are fresh and strong.
To humbler functions, awful Power! I call thee: I myself commend Unto thy guidance from this hour; Oh! let my weakness have an end! Give unto me, made lowly wise, The spirit of self-sacrifice; The confidence of reason give; And in the light of truth thy Bondman let me live!
# Poems, in Two Volumes (Wordsworth, 1807)/Volume 1/Beggars

POEMS
COMPOSED
DURING A TOUR, CHIEFLY ON FOOT.
1
BEGGARS.
# Poems (Wordsworth, 1815)/Volume 2/Beggars

XXII.
BEGGARS.
She had a tall Man's height, or more; No bonnet screened her from the heat; A long drab-coloured Cloak she wore, A Mantle reaching to her feet: What other dress she had I could not know; Only she wore a Cap that was as white as snow.
In all my walks, through field or town, Such Figure had I never seen: Her face was of Egyptian brown: Fit person was she for a Queen, To head those ancient Amazonian files: Or ruling Bandit's Wife, among the Grecian Isles.
​Before me begging did she stand, Pouring out sorrows like a sea; Grief after grief:—on English Land Such woes I knew could never be; And yet a boon I gave her; for the Creature Was beautiful to see; "a Weed of glorious feature!"
I left her, and pursued my way; And soon before me did espy A pair of little Boys at play, Chasing a crimson butterfly; The Taller followed with his hat in hand, Wreathed round with yellow flow'rs, the gayest of the land.
The Other wore a rimless crown, With leaves of laurel stuck about: And they both followed up and down, Each whooping with a merry shout; Two Brothers seemed they, eight and ten years old; And like that Woman's face as gold is like to gold.
​They bolted on me thus, and lo! Each ready with a plaintive whine; Said I, "Not half an hour ago Your Mother has had alms of mine." "That cannot be," one answer'd, "She is dead." "Nay but I gave her pence, and she will buy you bread."
"She has been dead, Sir, many a day." "Sweet Boys, you're telling me a lie; "It was your Mother, as I say—" And in the twinkling of an eye, "Come, come!" cried one; and, without more ado, Off to some other play they both together flew.
# Beggars

* "Beggars", in Poems, in Two Volumes (1807)
* "Beggars", in Poems (1815)
# Poems, in Two Volumes (Wordsworth, 1807)/Volume 1/To a Sky-Lark

2.
TO A SKY-LARK.
# To a Sky-lark

* "To a Sky-Lark", in Poems, in Two Volumes (1807)
* "To a Sky-lark", in Poems (1815)
# Poems (Wordsworth, 1815)/Volume 1/To a Sky-lark

XII.
TO A SKY-LARK.
Up with me! up with me into the clouds! For thy song, Lark, is strong; Up with me, up with me into the clouds! Singing, singing With all the heavens about thee ringing, Lift me, guide me till I find That spot which seems so to thy mind!
I have walked through wildernesses dreary, And to-day my heart is weary; Had I now the wings of a Faery, Up to thee would I fly. There is madness about thee, and joy divine In that song of thine; Up with me, up with me, high and high, To thy banqueting-place in the sky! Joyous as Morning, Thou art laughing and scorning; ​Thou hast a nest, for thy love and thy rest: And, though little troubled with sloth, Drunken Lark! thou would'st be loth To be such a Traveller as I. Happy, happy Liver! With a soul as strong as a mountain River, Pouring out praise to the Almighty Giver, Joy and jollity be with us both! Hearing thee, or else some other, As merry a Brother, I on the earth will go plodding on, By myself, cheerfully, till the day is done.
# Poems, in Two Volumes (Wordsworth, 1807)/Volume 1/With how sad Steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the Sky

3.
# Ancient India as described by Megasthenês and Arrian/Frag. XVI.

Fragm. XVI.
Pliny, Hist. Nat. VIII. 14. 1.
Of the Boa-Constrictor.
According to Megasthenês, serpents in India grow to such a size that they swallow stags and bulls whole.
Solinus, 52. 33.
So huge are the serpents that they swallow stags whole, and other animals of equal size.
# Ancient India as described by Megasthenês and Arrian/Frag. XVII.

Fragm. XVII.
Ælian, Hist. Anim. VIII. 7.
Of the Electric Eel.
I learn from Megasthenês that there is in the Indian Sea a small kind of fish which is never seen when alive, as it always swims in deep water, and only floats on the surface after it is dead. Should any one touch it he becomes faint and swoons,—nay, even dies at last.
# Fables Ancient and Modern (Dryden)/Baucis and Philemon

BAUCIS
AND
PHILEMON
Out of the
Eighth Book
OF
OVID'S
Metamorphoses.
BAUCIS
AND
PHILEMON,
Out of the Eighth Book of
OVID's METAMORPHOSES.
The Author pursuing the Deeds of Theseus; relates how He, with his Friend Perithous, were invited by Achelous, the River-God, to stay with him, till his Waters were abated. Achelous entertains them with a Relation of his own Love to Perimele, who was chang'd into an Island by Neptune, at his Request. Perithous, being an Atheist, derides the Legend, and denies the Power of the Gods, to work that Miracle. Lelex, another Companion of Theseus, to confirm the Story of Ache­lous, relates another Metamorphosis of Baucis and Philemon, into Trees; of which he was partly an Eye-witness.
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# Fables Ancient and Modern (Dryden)/Pygmalion and the Statue

PYGMALION
AND THE
STATUE.
Out of the
Tenth Book
OF
OVID'S
Metamorphoses.
PYGMALION
AND THE
STATUE,
Out of the Tenth Book of
OVID's METAMORPHOSES.
The Propætides, for their impudent Behaviour, being turn'd into Stone by Venus, Pygmalion, Prince of Cyprus, detested all Women for their Sake, and resolv'd never to marry: He falls in love with a Statue of his own making, which is chang'd into a Maid, whom he marries. One of his Descendants is Cinyras, the Father of Myrrha; the Daughter incestuously loves her own Father; for which he is chang'd into the Tree which bears her Name. These two Stories immediately follow each other, and are admirably well connected.
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# Fables Ancient and Modern (Dryden)/Cinyras and Myrrha

CINYRAS
AND
MYRRHA,
Out of the
Tenth Book
OF
OVID'S
Metamorphoses.
CINYRAS
AND
MYRRHA,
Out of the Tenth Book of
OVID's METAMORPHOSES.
There needs no Connection of this Story with the Former; for the Beginning of This immediately follows the End of the Last: The Reader is only to take notice, that Orpheus, who relates both, was by Birth a Thracian; and his Country far distant from Cyprus where Myrrha was born, and from Ara­bia whither she fled. You will see the Reason of this Note, soon after the first Lines of this Fable.
# Fables Ancient and Modern (Dryden)

There are minor differences in the titles in the Table of Contents and those at the head of each fable. Where this is the case, the latter has been used.
M$^r$ Dryden's
FABLES
FABLES
Ancient and Modern;
Translated into VERSE,
FROM
Homer, Ovid, Boccace, & Chaucer:
WITH
ORIGINAL POEMS
By M$^r$ DRYDEN.
LONDON: Printed for Jacob Tonson, within Gray's Inn Gate next Gray's Inn Lane. MDCC.
THE TABLE.
FINIS.
POSSIBLE MISSING ENTRIES {{TOC row 2out-1|[[Fables Ancient and Modern (Dryden)/|
Mr. Dryden's Ode in Honour of St. Cecilia's Day. 1697.
Of the Pythagorean Philosophy.
The Knight's Tale, As It Was Written by Geffrey Chaucer.
The Tale of the Nun's Priest.
The Floure and the Leafe.
The Wife of Bathe's Tale.
This work was published before January 1, 1930, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Ancient India as described by Megasthenês and Arrian/Frag. XVIII.

Fragm. XVIII.
Pliny, Hist. Nat. VI. 24. 1.
Of Taprobane.
Megasthenês says that Taprobane is separated from the mainland by a river; that the inhabitants are called Palaiogonoi, and that their country is more productive of gold and large pearls than India.
Solin. 53. 3.
Taprobane is separated from India by a ​river flowing between: for one part of it abounds with wild beasts and elephants much larger than India breeds, and man claims the other part.
* ↑ This island has been known by many names:— 1. Lanka.—The only name it goes by in Sanskṛit, and quite unknown to the Greeks and Romans. 2. Simundu or Palesimundu.—Probably a Greek form of the Sanskṛit Pâli-Simanta. This name had gone out of use before the time of Ptolemy the Geographer. 3. Taprobane.—Supposed to represent the Sanskṛit Tâmraparṇi (red-leaved' or 'copper-coloured sand'), a slightly altered form of the Pâli Taṁbapañṇî, which is found in the inscription of Aśoka on the Gîrnâr rock. Vide ante, vol. V. p. 272. 4. Salice (perhaps properly Saline), Serendivus, Sirlediba, Serendib, Zeilan, Ceylon. These are all considered to be derivatives from Siñala, the Pâli form of Siñhala, 'the abode of lions.' The affix dib represents the Sanskṛit dvîpa, 'an island.'
* ↑ Lassen has tried to account for the name Palaiogonoi thus (Dissert. de insula Taprob. p. 9):—"We must suppose that Megasthenes was acquainted with the Indian myth that the first inhabitants of the island were said to have been Râkshasas or giants, the sons of the progenitors of the world, whom he might not inaptly call Palaiogonoi." Against this it may be remarked that, by this unusual term and so uncommon, Megasthenês meant to name the nation, not describe it; and next that Megasthenês is not in the habit of translating names, but of rendering them according to sound with some degree of paronomasia; lastly, that, shortly after, we find the name of Taprobane and of its capital Παλαισιμούνδος, quite like to Παλαιόγονοι. Accordingly as Lassen explains Παλαισιμούνδος, the name of the capital, by the Sanskrit Pâli-simânta ('head of the sacred doctrine'), I would also prefer to explain the name of the Palaiogonoi from the Sanskrit Pâli-janâs (i.e. 'men of the sacred doctrine').—Schwanbeck, p. 38, n. 35.
# Ancient India as described by Megasthenês and Arrian/Frag. XIX.

Fragm. XIX.
Antigon. Caryst. 647.
Of Marine Trees.
Megasthenês, the author of the Indika, mentions that trees grow in the Indian Sea.
# Ancient India as described by Megasthenês and Arrian/Frag. XX.

Fragm. XX.
Arr. Ind. 4. 2-13.
Of the Indus and the Ganges.
See translation of Arrian.
# Ancient India as described by Megasthenês and Arrian/Frag. XXI.

Fragm. XXI.
Arr. Ind. 6. 2-8.
Of the River Silas.
See translation of Arrian.
# Ancient India as described by Megasthenês and Arrian/Frag. XXII.

Fragm. XXII.
Boissonade, Anecd. Græc. I. p. 419.
Of the River Silas.
There is in India a river called the Silas, named after the fountain from which it flows, on which nothing will float that is thrown into ​it, but everything sinks to the bottom, contrary to the usual law.
# Ancient India as described by Megasthenês and Arrian/Frag. XXIII.

Fragm. XXIII.
Strabo, XV. i. 38,—p. 708.
Of the River Silas.
(Megasthenês says) that in the mountainous country is a river, the Silas, on the waters of which nothing will float. Dêmokritos, who had travelled over a large part of Asia, disbelieves this, and so does Aristotle.
# Ancient India as described by Megasthenês and Arrian/Frag. XXIV.

Fragm. XXIV.
Arr. Ind. 5. 2.
Of the Number of Indian Rivers.
See translation of Arrian.