OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Autumn

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## Poetry

* “Autumn,” by Charlotte Allen (Stern Autumn reigns! the leaves fall fast)
* “Autumn,” by Charlotte Allen (Summer hath passed, and its sweets are gone)
* “Autumn,” by Augusta Baldwyn
* “Autumn,” by William Browne
* “Autumn,” by Eunice Browning (Time, how soon you scatter)
* “Autumn,” by Eunice Browning (High from the sides of the mountain)
* “Autumn,” by John Clare
* “Autumn,” by Florence Earle Coates (In her arms unconscious lying)
* “Autumn,” by Florence Earle Coates ("We ne'er will part!" Ah me, what plaintive sounds)
* “Autumn,” by Elizabeth Jane Coatsworth
* “Autumn,” by Gladys Cromwell
* “Autumn,” by Emily Dickinson (The morns are meeker than they were,)
* “Autumn,” by Mary Ann Hammer Dodd
* “Autumn,” by Mary Baker Eddy
* “Autumn,” by Eliza Lee Cabot Follen
* “Autumn,” by Mary A. Geisse
* “Autumn,” a poem by Elizabeth Gifford
* “Autumn,” by Georgia Douglas Camp Johnson
* “Autumn,” a poem by Rebecca Queen Jordan
* “Autumn,” a poem by Sara Beaumont Kennedy
* “Autumn,” by Francis Ledwidge
* “Autumn,” a poem by Edith Willis Linn
* “Autumn,” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (Thou comest, Autumn, heralded by the rain,)
* “Autumn,” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (With what a glory comes and goes the year!)
* “Autumn,” a poem by Susanna Pizey
* “Autumn,” a poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
* “Autumn,” by “J. S.” (The rich autumnal shadows fall;)
* “Autumn,” by Siegfried Sassoon
* “Autumn,” by Antoinette Quinby Scudder
* “Autumn,” by Sirak Skitnik
* “Autumn,” by Lydia Huntley Sigourney
* “Autumn,” by Eliza Jane Stephens
* “Autumn,” by Elizabeth Stoddard
* “Autumn,” by Cynthia Taggart
* “Autumn,” by James Thomson
* “Autumn,” a poem by Emma Toke
* “Autumn,” by Frances Fuller Victor
* “Autumn,” by Jeannie Copes White
* “Autumn,” by Clement Richardson Wood

## Other

* “Autumn,” a hymn tune by François Hippolyte Barthélemon
* Autumn: From the Journal of Henry D. Thoreau (1892), edited by H. G. O. Blake

## See also

* Early Autumn
# European Elegies/Autumn (1)/Autumn

15.AUTUMN
From the Bulgarian of Sirak Skitnik.
# Autumn (1892) Thoreau

* Books by H. D. Thoreau.
* WALDEN; or, Life in the Woods. 12mo, gilt top, $1.50. Riverside Aldine Edition. 16mo, $1.00.
* A WEEK ON THE CONCORD AND MERRIMACK
* RIVERS. 12mo, gilt top, $1.50.
* EXCURSIONS IN FIELD AND FOREST. With a Bio-
* graphical Sketch by Emerson, 12mo, gilt top, $1.50.
* THE MAINE WOODS. 12mo, gilt top, $1.50.
* CAPE COD. 12mo, gilt top, $1.50.
* LETTERS TO VARIOUS PERSONS, to which are added
* a few Poems. 12mo, gilt top, $1.50.
* A YANKEE IN CANADA. With Antislavery and Reform
* Papers. 12mo, gilt top, $1.50.
* EARLY SPRING IN MASSACHUSETTS. From the
* Journal of Henry D. Thoreau. 12mo, gilt top, $1.50.
* SUMMER. From the Journal of Henry D. Thoreau.
* 12 mo, gilt top, $1.50.
* WINTER. From the Journal of Henry D. Thoreau.
* 12mo, gilt top, $1.50.
* The above ten 12mo volumes, $15.00; half calf, $27.50.
* SELECTIONS FROM THOREAU. With Bibliography.
* 18mo, $1.00.
* THE SUCCESSION OF FOREST TREES AND WILD APPLES. With Biographical Sketch by Emerson 16mo, paper, 15 cents.
* HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY, Boston and New York.
AUTUMN: FROM THE JOURNAL OF HENRY D. THOREAU
EDITED BY H. G. O. BLAKE
"This world is no blot for us Nor blank; it means intensely and means good; To find its meaning is my meat and drink."
Browning, Fra Lippo Lippi.
"In the last stage of civilization, poetry, religion and philosophy will be one, and there are glimpses of this truth in the first." —Thoreau, December 17, 1837.
BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY The Riverside Press, Cambridge 1892
Copyright, 1892, By HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO.
All rights reserved.
The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A.
Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Company.
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
# The Bergen Record/1965/09/09/Sanford

George Dewey Sanford (1898-1965) in the The Bergen Record on September 9, 1965.
Sanford — George D. Sanford Sr., on September 8, of 156 West Pleasant Avenue, Maywood. Beloved Husband of Grace Mae. Devoted father of Mrs. Eloise Margaret Reilly and George D. Sanford Jr. Dear brother of Mrs. Violet Blogett. Funeral service at Trinka's, 439 Maywood Avenue, Maywood. Notice of time later. The family will receive friends 3 to 5 and 7 to 9.
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
# Caroling Dusk/The Dreams of the Dreamer

THE DREAMS OF THE DREAMER
# The Dreams of the Dreamer

* "The Dreams of the Dreamer", published in The Heart of a Woman and Other Poems (1918)
* "The Dreams of the Dreamer", published in Caroling Dusk (1927)
# The Rocky Mountain Saints/Chapter 18

* THE MISSOURIANS TRIUMPHANT.
* Grandiloquent Speech of Gen. Clark
* Mormons ordered to leave the State
* Examination of the Prisoners
* The Prophet not subdued
* The Legislature memorialized
* The Saints wavering
* Joseph reviews the Situation.
General Clark, entrusted with the superior command of the militia of Missouri, arrived at Far West on the 4th of November, too late to participate in the glories of General Lucas. But there was much yet to be done to carry out the Governor's order of expulsion or extermination. From first to last, the troops sent to Far West under the different commands were probably altogether six thousand men. Before his departure for Independence, General Lucas disbanded nearly all the militia. General Clark arrived with sixteen hundred others. The Mormon militia here, about five hundred in number, had already given up their arms. They were now called out of their houses and ordered into line. From a paper that had been furnished to General Clark, the names of fifty-six of their number were read, and as they answered they were called out and sent to Richmond jail (Ray county), without being informed of what they were accused. Before they departed, the General made the following speech:
   "Gentlemen—You whose names are not attached to this list of names, will now have the privilege of going to your fields, and of providing corn, wood, etc., for your families. Those who are now taken will go from this to prison, be tried, and receive the due demerit of their crimes; but you (except such as charges may hereafter be preferred against) are at liberty as soon as the troops are removed that now guard the place, which I shall cause to be done immediately. It now devolves upon you to fulfil a treaty that you have entered into, the leading items of which I shall now lay before you. The first requires that your leading men be given up ​Page:The Rocky Mountain Saints.djvu/144 ​Page:The Rocky Mountain Saints.djvu/145 ​Page:The Rocky Mountain Saints.djvu/146 ​Page:The Rocky Mountain Saints.djvu/147 ​Page:The Rocky Mountain Saints.djvu/148
# Separation

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Separation"
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, 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.
* “Separation,” a poem by Matthew Arnold
* The Separation, a play by Joanna Baillie
* “The Separation,” a poem by Abraham Cowley
* “Separation,” a poem by Gladys Cromwell
* “Separation,” a poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
* “Separation,” a poem by Emmeline Hinxman
* “Separation,” a poem by Georgia Douglas Camp Johnson
* “Separation,” a poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
* “Separation,” a poem by Lydia Huntley Sigourney
* “Separation,” a poem translated by Arthur Waley
* “Separation,” a poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
# Dramas (Baillie)/The Separation

THE
SEPARATION:
A TRAGEDY,
IN FIVE ACTS.
PERSONS OF THE DRAMA.
MEN:
Garcio, an Italian Count. Rovani, his Friend. Gonzalos, an old Officer. The Marquis of Tortona. Ludoviquo, Seneschal of the Castle. Gauvino, Chamberlain. Pietro, } Gomez, } Servants.
Hermit, &c. &c.
WOMEN.
Margaret, Wife to Garcio. Sophera, her Attendant and Friend.
Nurse, &c.
Scene, a small State in Italy.
Acts (not listed in original)
* Act 1
* Act 2
* Act 3
* Act 4
* Act 5
# The Works of Abraham Cowley/Volume 2/The Separation

THE SEPARATION.
# Pocahontas and Other Poems (New York)/Separation

SEPARATION.
You've watch'd the lessening sail  That bore the friend away, Till but a misty speck it seem'd  Upon the billowy bay; The grating wheels you've mark'd  In their receding flight, Like victors vaunting, as they took  Your treasure from your sight.
A sever'd tress you've hid  Next to your bosom's core, A plant, the parting token, nursed  Till all its bloom was o'er; Amid your choicest page  Some wither'd flow'ret prest, That erst a prouder place maintain'd  Upon the dear one's breast.
You o'er the pencill'd brow  In solitude have hung, And to the voiceless picture talk'd  With love's impassion'd tongue; You've sought the favourite walk,  Green dell, or sea-girt shore, And felt how deep the shade had fallen  On all that charm'd before:
Or to your secret bower  In lonely sadness stole, To muse o'er hoarded word and smile,  Those jewels of the soul; You've borne a precious name  Upon your soul-breathed prayer, And at the threshold of the skies  Reposed your anxious care.
The unutter'd pang you've felt,  The bursting tear represt, And shut the rankling anguish close  Within your burden'd breast; Or worn the outward smile,  The hollow greeting said, Till darkly on the springs of life  The smother'd sorrow fed.
To twine the spring-tide wreath,  And mourn o'er autumn's bier, The hope to win, the joy to lose,  This is our history here; To find the rose, whose bloom  Nor thorn nor blight hath riven, To meet, and never more to part,  Is not of earth, but heaven.
# Poems of Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Pledge of Friendship, 1828/Separation

SEPARATION.
Aye, think of me in after years,  Although the dream be past, Love’s charmed dream of hopes and fears,  It is not made to last.
It cannot last—hearts will grow cold,  And weary, although blest;— Life’s book has but one leaf of gold—  ’Tis but a single scene.
That scene,—oh life may never more  Seen lovely as it seemed, When wanderers on a fairy shore,  Our way we only dreamed.
But this is past—why should I say  What is in mine own heart? I know each has a separate way—  I know that we must part.
I know your heart,—I know my own—  Wide difference is there— And these, so opposite in tone,  A various fate must share.
Deem not I would thy faith recall—  Look not for tears from me— Equals, pride will for me do all,  Indifference does for thee.
Oh strange that two once so beloved,  Each all the world to each, Should meet in other days unmoved;—  What lesson does it teach?
One that, at least, I long have known—  To trust to nothing here; That the heart should be cast in stone,  To suit so cold a sphere.
It is not for a thought of love,  I bid thee think of me; The stars may leave their homes above,  Ere that again may be!
But keep that thought, like one rich vein  Of pure and golden ore, 'Mid all the false and heartless train  Teach in their worldly lore,
To mind thee that there are such things,  As truth and love on earth, When heartless sneers the scoffer flings,  Upon their priceless worth.
Thou canst not be all worldly, while  Such memories with thee dwell, Haunting thee with a midnight smile  Of former love—Farewell!
# A Hundred and Seventy Chinese Poems/Separation

SEPARATION
Yesterday I heard that such-a-one was gone;
This morning they tell me that so-and-so is dead. Of friends and acquaintances more than two-thirds
Have suffered change and passed to the Land of Ghosts. Those that are gone I shall not see again;
They, alas, are for ever finished and done. Those that are left,— where are they now? They are all scattered,— a thousand miles away. Those I have known and loved through all my life. On the fingers of my hand — how many do I count? Only the prefects of T'ung, Kuo and Li
And Fēng Province — just those four. Longing for each other we are all grown gray;
Through the Fleeting World rolled like a wave in the stream. Alas that the feasts and frolics of old days
Have withered and vanished, bringing us to this! When shall we meet and drink a cup of wine
And laughing gaze into each other's eyes?
# Caroling Dusk/Claude McKay

CLAUDE McKAY
“I was born in a very little village high up in the hills of the parish of Clarendon in the island of Jamaica. The village was so small it hadn’t a name like the larger ​surrounding villages. But our place was called Sunny Ville. I was the youngest of eleven.
My father was a peasant proprietor who owned his land and cultivated large tracts of coffee, cocoa, bananas and sugar-cane. When I was of school age I was sent to my brother who was a schoolmaster in a small town in the North-Western part of the island. He educated me. He was a free-thinker and I became one, too, so soon as I could think about life and religion. I was never a child of any church. My brother had a nice library with books of all sorts and I read such free-thought writers as Haeckel, Huxley, Matthew Arnold, side by side with Shakespeare and the great English novelists and poets (excepting Browning) before I was fourteen. At that time Shakespeare to me was only a wonderful story-teller. When I was seventeen I won a Jamaica Government Trade Scholarship and was apprenticed to a cabinet-maker and wheelwright. I hated trade and quit. When I was nineteen I joined the Jamaica Constabulary and left it after ten months. An English gentleman who was collecting Jamaica folklore became interested in my dialect verses and helped me to publish my first book: Songs of Jamaica, in 1911. I was twenty years old then. The next year I went to the United States. First to an educational institution for Negroes in the South. I did not like it, and left there after three months for a college in a Western state. There I stayed two years. Came to New York. Abandoned all thought of returning to the West Indies. Lost a few thousand dollars (a legacy) in high living and bad business. Went to work at various jobs, porter, houseman, longshoreman, bar-man, railroad club and hotel waiter. Kept on writing. The Seven Arts Magazine took two of my poems in 1917. In 1918 Frank Harris published some poems in Pearson’s. In 1919 The Liberator published some things. The same year I went to Holland, Belgium and England. Lived in London over a year. ​Published Spring in New Hampshire. Returned to America in 1921. Got a job with Max Eastman on the Liberator. Kept it till Max Eastman left for Europe. Went to Russia in 1922. Harlem Shadows published 1922 by Harcourt, Brace & Co. Stayed six months in Moscow and Petrograd. Berlin in 1923. Paris at the end of 1923, where I was very ill for months. Been in France ever since trying to exist and write.”
# Caroling Dusk/America

AMERICA
# 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica/Interim

See also Interim on Wikipedia; and our 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica disclaimer.
​INTERIM, originally a Latin word for “in the meantime.” The word was hence applied to certain edicts and decrees passed by the emperor and the diets during the reformation in Germany with the object of temporarily settling a controversy. These “interims” regulated points of religious and ecclesiastical difference until they could be decided by a general council. The best example of such a modus vivendi is the Augsburg Interim of 1548, drawn up by Michael Helding, Julius von Pflug and John Agricola (a medievalist, an Erasmian, and a conservative Lutheran) at the bidding of Charles V., and accepted by the diet. It was an ambiguous document, teaching from the Roman Catholic side transubstantiation, the seven sacraments, adoration of the Virgin and saints, and papal headship, and from the Protestant, justification by faith, marriage of priests, the use of the cup by the laity. Maurice of Saxony was permitted to vary the interim for his dominions, and his edition was called the Leipzig Interim. An earlier interim was that of Regensburg, 1541.
# America (McKay)

* "America", published in Harlem Shadows (1922)
* "America", published in Caroling Dusk (1927)
# Harlem Shadows/America

Layout 2
Although she feeds me bread of bitterness,
And sinks into my throat her tiger's tooth, Stealing my breath of life, I will confess I love this cultured hell that tests my youth! Her vigor flows like tides into my blood, Giving me strength erect against her hate. Her bigness sweeps my being like a flood. Yet as a rebel fronts a king in state, I stand within her walls with not a shred Of terror, malice, not a word of jeer. Darkly I gaze into the days ahead, And see her might and granite wonders there, Beneath the touch of Time's unerring hand, Like priceless treasures sinking in the sand.
# Caroling Dusk/Exhortation: Summer, 1919

EXHORTATION: SUMMER, 1919
# Journal of American Folk-Lore/Volume 12/Issue 47/Christmas Carols from Georgia

CHRISTMAS CAROLS FROM GEORGIA.
The Christmas songs of negroes, given below, are examples of the true carols, or noëls, still sung in that State. Unhappily we cannot add the melody:—
Emma M. Backus.
# Good-Bye

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Good-Bye"
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, 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.

## Good-by

* “Good by,” a poem by Elizabeth Chase Allen
* “Good-by,” a poem by Marietta Holley
* “Good-by,” a poem by Harriet McEwen Kimball

## Good-Bye

* “Good-Bye,” a poem by Ada Cambridge
* “Good-Bye,” a poem by Ralph Waldo Emerson
* “Good-Bye,” a poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
* “Good-Bye,” a poem by Georgia Douglas Camp Johnson
* “Good-bye!,” a poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
* “Good-Bye,” a poem by Walter de la Mare
* “Good-Bye,” a song by Francesco Paolo Tosti and George John Whyte-Melville

## Goodbye

* “Goodbye!,” a poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
# Flint and Feather (1914)/Part 2/Good-Bye

GOOD-BYE
Sounds of the seas grow fainter, Sounds of the sands have sped; The sweep of gales, The far white sails, Are silent, spent and dead.
Sounds of the days of summer Murmur and die away, And distance hides The long, low tides, As night shuts out the day.
# Good-bye! (Shorter)

“And so goodbye, my love, my dear, and so goodbye…”
* Shorter, Dora Sigerson (1893), "Good-bye!" in Verses
* Shorter, Dora Sigerson (1907), "Goodbye!" in The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter
# Verses (Shorter)/Good-bye!

From Verses (1893).
GOOD-BYE!
And so good-bye, my love, my dear, and so good-bye, E’en thus from my sad heart go hence, depart; I cast thee out, renounce, and hold no more; I wreck the cup of joy thou heldest for drinking To my lips, thinking we’d quaff—be as before; Yet at my laughter if thou hearest sigh. And ask no question ‘Why?’ Believing only that my pleasure lies To find approval in thy pleased eyes.
Before our time, my dear, my dear. Fate so had planned Our little race to run beneath the sun, That we should meet and love and dream, then separate. Perchance, she thought, though, there would be no parting, No salt tears smarting; she deemed to mate My most imperfect self to thine, and gain A better harvesting of pain:
I weep, but null is Fate’s decree— Such tears fall not so bitterly.
I saw a woman once undo and then peruse Old letters with hard eyes; through such disguise I pierced and knew her weeping. ‘And such he was,’ she said. ‘Whose is the failing That love is paling? which is the soul that’s sleeping?’ His step; and quick the letters put in hiding: They meet with cold eyes chiding. If I were such as she, Oh, death were well for me!
I saw a man’s gray eyes fill up, and overfull Let fall two sparkling tears, as one who fears; Draw forth a curling braid of woman’s hair, Lay it across his lips with swift caressing. His love confessing: ‘My sweet beyond compare, Whose fault we love to-day and hate to-morrow?’ Her voice: he hides his sorrow, And meets her bitterly; And oh, if thou wert he!
I saw two children wondering, hand in hand. Sit dumb beside their hearth, as if their mirth Were stricken by some fear past understanding; Find in their parents’ eyes with silent reading The old degrading truth beyond commanding—
The bond of love that held two hates united, They plead still unrequited, They grow and bear the thorn — Oh, better never born!
Better if thou wert dead, my dear, if thou wert dead; No woman’s moan but mine should hush thy sleeping. When other eyes should close, their watch forgetting, Mine vain regretting still its watch was keeping; When other hearts grew weary by death’s gates. Stole to their loves and hates. Mine still lived for its laughter In what might come hereafter.
Good-bye! I would not have thee dead. We grasped at stars That only God could take: we tried to make A paradise for keeping Upon an earth where He had wrecked the garden; Giving no pardon, baptized us all in weeping. So pass; good-bye! Some other woman’s love. Oh! not as great as mine, will find above Some happier fate to choose you Than mine that did refuse you.
THE END.
# The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter/Goodbye!

GOODBYE
And so goodbye, my love, my dear, and so goodbye, E'en thus from my sad heart go hence, depart; I cast thee out, renounce, and hold no more; I wreck the cup of joy thou heldest for drinking To my lips, thinking we'd quaff—be as before; Yet at my laughter if thou nearest sigh, And ask no question “Why?” Believing only that my pleasure lies To find approval in thy pleased eyes.
Before our time, my dear, my dear, Fate so had planned Our little race to run beneath the sun. That we should meet and love and dream, then separate. Perchance, she thought, though, there would be no parting, No salt tears smarting; she deemed to mate My most imperfect self to thine, and gain A better harvesting of pain: I weep, but null is Fate's decree— Such tears fall not so bitterly.
I saw a woman once undo and then peruse Old letters with hard eyes; through such disguise I pierced and knew her weeping. “And such he was,” she said, “whose is the failing That love is paling? which is the soul that's sleeping?” His step; and quick the letters put in hiding: They meet with cold eyes chiding. If I were such as she. Oh, death were well for me!
I saw a man's grey eyes fill up, and overfull Let fall two sparlding tears, as one who fears; Draw forth a curling braid of woman's hair, Lay it across his lips with swift caressing. His love confessing: "My sweet beyond compare, Whose fault we love to-day and hate to-morrow?" Her voice: he hides his sorrow, And meets her bitterly; And oh, if thou wert he!
I saw two children wondering, hand in hand. Sit dumb beside their hearth, as if their mirth Were stricken by some fear past understanding; Find in their parents' eyes with silent reading The old degrading truth beyond commanding— The bond of love that held two hates united, They plead still unrequited. They grow and bear me thorn— Oh, better never born!
Better if thou wert dead, my dear, if thou wert dead; No woman's moan but mine should hush thy sleeping. When other eyes should close, their watch forgetting, Mine vain regretting still their watch was keeping; When other hearts grew weary by death's gates. Stole to their loves and hates, Mine still lived for its laughter In what might come hereafter.
Goodbye! I would not have thee dead. We grasped at stars That only God could take: we tried to make A paradise for keeping Upon an earth where He had wrecked the garden; Giving no pardon, baptized us all in weeping. So pass; goodbye! Some other woman's love. Oh! not as great as mine, will find above Some happier fate to choose you Than mine that did refuse you.