OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Conservative (Lovecraft)/July 1919/Song

Song
By Samuel Loveman.
In the spring of the year, in the silver rain, When petal by petal the blossoms fall, The robins begin to mate again, But the heart forgets not all.
For within the budding flow’rs and leaves, A spirit of Joy awakens and stays; But the soul of Grief remembers and grieves, All her lonely and alien days.
# Constancy

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Constancy"
* 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.
* “Constancy” (Reproach me not, though heretofore), anonymous
* “Constancy,” a short story by Neith Boyce
* “Constancy,” a poem by Sophia May Eckley
* “Constancy,” a poem by Mary Baker Eddy
* “Constancy,” a poem by Jane Francesca Agnes Elgee
* “Constancy,” a poem by Elsa Gidlow
* “Constancie,” a poem by George Herbert
* “Constancy,” a poem by Harriet McEwen Kimball
* “Constancy, a Song,” a poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon (Forget thee—or forget)
* “Constancy,” a poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon (Aye, let us look on all around)
* “Constancy,” a poem by Andrew Francis Lockhart
* “Constancy,” a poem by Mary Noel McDonald
# Tixall Poetry/Constancy

IX.
Constancy.
# On a Grey Thread/Constancy

Constancy
Layout 2
# The Conservative (Lovecraft)/July 1919/Constancy

Constancy
By Andrew Francis Lockhart
The blood-red sun sinks deep, Deep in the bowl of space; And snow-white clouds like sheep Stray o’er the evening’s face.
A lone star glimmers pale, Above the mountain’s crest, And like a fading sail The moon dims in the west.
A stillness reaching far; Night.... and the Loneliness! And yet in one lone star Lie Hope and God’s caress!
# Bereft

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Bereft"
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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.
* “Bereft,” a poem by Agnes Richmond Arnold
* “Bereft,” a poem by Florence Earle Coates
* “Bereft,” a poem by Olive Custance
# The Conservative (Lovecraft)/July 1919/Bereft

Bereft
By Agnes Richmond Arnold
He rideth up: he rideth up; The red, red sun o’er a glassy sea; And there be ships as will gang a-wrack, And lads as will never come sailing back To their true, true loves in their ain countree.
They tell it oft at break of day— The wise old tars who have sail’d the main— “When the blood-red sun climbs the heavens’ dome, The storm will gather and fret to foam The merciless sea ere he sets again.”
They say it now and will say it aye— The wise, wise ones who have watch’d in vain— “The heart that awaits a lover’s return, O’er the waves that swell and the seas that churn, Is the heart that bears its burden of pain.”
He rideth low; he rideth low; The lurid sun o’er a choppy sea; And the black, black night comes a-swooping down Where true-loves wait in the spray-swept town For those afar from their ain countree.
# Disappointment

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Disappointment"
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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.
* “Disappointment,” a short story by Achmed Abdullah
* “Disappointment,” a poem by Sophia May Eckley
* “Disappointment,” a poem by Sophia Courtoulde Hazlett-Bevis
* “Disappointment,” a poem by Mary Eliza Perine Tucker Lambert
* “Disappointment,” a poem by Laurence Hope
* “Disappointment,” a poem by Wilfrid Kemble
* “Disappointment,” a poem by George Faunce Whitcomb

## See also

* The Disappointment
# Jewels of Romance/Quatrains/Disappointment

DISAPPOINTMENT
Like a wounded bird I held you, Hoping, in vain, that my embrace Might soothe your hurts, and kindle new Embers to warm our hearts apace.
# The Conservative (Lovecraft)/July 1919/Disappointment

Disappointment
By Wilfrid Kemble
Their lustrous eyes still glow in wood and mead, The flow’rs that drew my infant steps astray From home, while yet, with purpose bent on play, To grander sights above I gave no heed, But when at length I felt a larger need, As grew the heat and burden of the day, I sought relief in visions far away, Whose glories would the spangled earth’s exceed. Alas! I hear the battle’s deadly roar, And mark the glare of burning shrine and street, Whose smoke ascends to Heaven’s fast-clos’d door; And sick at heart with surfeit of deceit, I fain would be a little child once more, Content with daisies flow’ring at my feet.
# The Conservative (Lovecraft)/March 1923/Thomas Holley Chivers

Thomas Holley Chivers
(Buried at Decatur, Georgia)
Beneath these pines and lucent skies, Forgotten, save by those that know, The loneliest Immortal lies— A poet and the friend of Poe.
Somewhere on Heaven’s chancel floor, Where wandering stars and orbits meet So high, it dared no longer soar, His song rose marvellously sweet.
He sang of Heaven ere twilight fell, Of cherubim and seraphim, And in the radiance visible, Their loneliness crept over him.
Something half-alien and remote, A sense of gold on lips athrong, And from that perilous lyric throat, The wonder of celestinl song.
And he who utter’d in his mood The music of the stars and sun, Lies here as any mortal would, A serf to long oblivion.
—Samuel Loveman.
Georgia, 1918.
# Poems: Second Series (Dickinson)/Storm

XXXIV.
STORM.
IT sounded as if the streets were running, And then the streets stood still. Eclipse was all we could see at the window, And awe was all we could feel.
By and by the boldest stole out of his covert, To see if time was there.
Nature was in her beryl apron, Mixing fresher air.
# Verses (Shorter)/A Storm

From Verses (1893).
A STORM.
Come, teasing wind, we will fly, Seek our heart’s desire, you and I; Fit comrade for me, Thou breath of liberty, I sigh for the freedom of your wings. The sea will make us horses for our speed. The fields will give the perfume of their seed, In the woods a sweet rose blowing We will scatter it in going. And bear the lark up sunward as he sings.
Go! we must part, you and I; Not this my heart’s desire, so good-bye! Had I thought a moment’s madness Had wrought so dire a sadness. My soul had never sorrowed for thy wings. What have the tossing waves found for their play? Have mercy, let the white face hide away!
In the fields a harvest dead, In the woods life’s promise fled, And the lark is blown seaward as he sings.
Far better you were sleeping, O my soul. Than that your coming forth a moment stole From another’s heart its rest. Die you silent in my breast And seek in death that answer life denied: Lest a dying voice should curse instead of pray, Lest a heart should shadow, blighted of its May, Lest a soul glad of its light Should be plunged in gloom of night. Be in the World’s seeing satisfied.
# Tradesman's farewell

To which is added,
The Battle of Toulouse,
AND
THE STORM.
GLASGOW:
Published, and Sold Wholesale and Retail, by R. Hutchison & Co. 10, Saltmarket.———1816,
Poems: (not listed in original)
* The Tradesman's Farewell
* Battle of Toulouse
* The Storm
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 Storm ("Cease, rude Boreas, blust'ring railer")

* “The Storm,” in Tradesman’s Farewell (1816)
* “The Storm,” in The Black-Bird Songster (c. 1840s)
# Tradesman's farewell/The Storm

THE STORM.
Cease, rude Boreas, blust’ring railer, list ye landsmen all to me, Messmates, hear a brother sailor sing the dangers of the sea, From bounding billows first in motion, when the distant whirlwinds rise, To the tempest-troubled ocean, where the seas contend with skies.
Hark! the boatswain hoarsely bawling,— by top-sail sheets and haulyards stand Down top-gallants quick be hauling, down your stay-sails, hand, boys, hand. Now it freshens, set the braces; quick the top-sail sheets let go; ​⟨Luff, boys, luff, don’t make wry faces,⟩ up your top sails nimbly clew.
Now all you on down-beds sporting, fondly lock’d in beauty’s arms, Fresh enjoyments wanton courting, free from all but love's alarms,— Round us roars the tempest louder; think what fear our mind enthrals: Harder yet, it yet blows harder; now again the boatswain calls.
The top-sail yards point to the wind, boys, see all clear to reef each course; Let the foresheets go; don’t mind, boys, though the weather should be worse. Fore and aft the sprit sail yard get; reef the mizen; see all clear: Hand up, each preven er-brace set; man the fore-yard; cheer lads, cheer.
Now the dreadful thunder’s roaring, peals on peals contending clash, On our heads fierce rain falls pouring, in our eyes blue light’nings flash. One wide water all around us, all above us one black sky, Diff’rent deaths at once surround us, hark, what means that dreadful cry?
The foremast’s gone, cries ev’ry tongue out, o’er the lee, twelve feet ’bove deck: A leak beneath the chest-tree’s sprung out; call all hands to clear the wreck.
​⟨Quick the lanyards cut to pieces;⟩ come, my hearts, be stout and bold; Plumb the well, the leak increases, four feet water in the hold.
While o’er the ship wild waves are beating, we for wives or children mourn; Alas! from hence there’s no retreating; alas! from hence there’s no return. Still the leak is gaining on us, both chain-pumps are chok’d below, Heav'n have mercy now upon us, for only that can save us now.
O’er the lee-beam is the land, boys; let the guns o’er board be thrown; To the pump come every hand, boys; see our mizen-mast is gone; The leak we’ve found, it cannot pour fast: we’ve lighten’d her a foot or more;
Up, and rig a jury foremast; she rights, she rights, boys, wcar off shore.
Now once more on joys we're thinking; since kind fortune, spar’d our lives Come, the can, boys, let’s be drinking to our sweethearts and our wives. Fill it up, about ship wheel it; close to th’ lips a brimmer join Where’s the tempest now? who feels it? none, our danger’s drown’d in wine.
FINIS.
# The Black-Bird Songster/The Storm

THE STORM.
Cease, rude Boreas, blust'ring railer, List ye landsmen unto me, Messmates, hear a brother sailor Sing the dangers of the sea.
From bounding billows first in motion, When the distant whirlwinds rise, To the tempest-troubled ocean, Where the seas contend with skies.
Hark! the boatswain hoarsely bawling,— By top-sail sheets and haulyards stand! Down top-gallants, quick, be hauling! Down your stay-sails, hand, boys, hand! Now it freshens, set the braces; Quick the top-sạil sheets lot go; Luff, boys, luff, don't make wry faces Up your top-sails nimbly clew.
Now all you on down beds sporting, Fondly lock'd in beauty's arms, Fresh enjoyments wanton courting, Free from all but love's alarms. Round us roars the tempest louder; Think what fear our mind enthralls: Harder yet, it yet blows harder; Now again the boatswain calls.
The top-sail yards point to the wind, boys,
See all clear to reef each course; ​Let the foresheets go; don’t mind, boys. Though the weather should be worse. Fore and aft the sprit sail yard get; Reef the mizen; see all clear; Hand up! each preventer-brace set; Man the foreyard; cheer, lads, cheer!
Now the dreadful thunder’s roaring! Peals on peals contending clash! On our head fierce rain falls pouring! In our eyes blue lightning flash! One wide water all around us, All above us one black sky! Diff'rent deaths at once surround us. Hark! what means that dreadful cry?
The foremast’s gone, cries ev’ry tongue out, O’er the lee, twelve feet ’bove deck: A leak beneath the chest-tree’s sprung out; Call all hands to clear the wreck. Quick the lanyards cut to pieces; Come, my hearts, be stout and bold; Plumb the well, the leak increases, Four feet water in the hold.
While o’er the ship wild waves are beating, We for wives or children mourn; Alas! from hence there’s no retreating, Alas! from hence there’s no return. Still the leak is gaining on us, Both chain-pumps are chok’d below, Heav’n have mercy here upon us! For only that cau save us now!
​O'er the lee-beam is the land, boys; Let the guns o'erboard be thrown; To the pumps come every hand, boys; She our mizen-mast is gone: The leak we've found, it cannot pour fast, We've lighten'd her a foot or more; Up and rig a jury foremast; She rights, she rights, boys! wear off shore.
Now once more on joys we're thinking, Since kind fortune spar'd our lives: Come, the can, boys, let's be drinking, To our sweethearts and our wives. Fill it up, about ship wheel it, Close to th' lips a brimmer join; Where's the tempest now? who fears it? None! our danger's drown'd in wine.
# The Posthumous Works of Ann Eliza Bleecker/The Storm

Come let us sing how when the Judge Supreme Mounts the black tempest, arm'd with pointed flame, What clust'ring horrors form his awful train:
Columns of smoke obscure the crystal skies, The whirlwind howls, the livid lightning flies, The bursting thunder sounds from shore to shore, Earth trembles at the loud prolonged roar: Down on the mountain forests rush the hail, Th' aspiring pines fall headlong in the vale; The riv'lets, swell'd with deluges of rain, Rise o'er their banks and overflow the plain.
Th'affrighted peasant ope's his humble door, While from his roof the clatt'ring torrents pour, He sees his barns all red with conflagration, His flocks borne off by sudden inundation; His teeming fields, robb'd of their wavy pride, By cat'rects tumbling down the mountain's side. The shock suspends his pow'rs, he stands distrest, To see his toil of years at once revers'd. His tender mate, of philosophic foul, Reproves his grief, and thus her accents roll: 'Exert thy fortitude, for grief is vain, 'Our bread by labour we can yet obtain: 'If riches were the test of virtue, then 'Pale Poverty were infamy to men; 'But since we find the virtuous often dwells 'In public odium, or in lonely cells, 'While those whose crimes blot Nature's aspect o'er, 'Who burn whole towns, and quench the flames in gore;
'In Pleasure's lap supine their moments spend, 'Yet wish annihilation when they end; 'The laws of retribution then require, 'Our joys begin with death---when their's expire; 'Reason allows no scepticism here, 'The good must hope, the bad have much to fear: 'And take a retrospect of thy past years, 'What placid scenes on every hand appears! 'To call the tears of black Remorse no crime, 'Can now suffuse thy cheek or cloud thy mind. 'Grieve not that Fate, with elemental strife 'Has torn away our hopes of mortal joys; 'To put our virtues but in exercise 'Are the misfortunes that arise in life.'
The rustic heard his sorrows all away, Sweet Peace broke on him with a bright'ning ray; Calmness and Hope their empire repossest, Amidst the storm he feels serenely blest; Amidst the wreck of all his earthly store He feels more grateful than he did before.
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
# Poems: Second Series (Dickinson)/The Storm

XXVI. THE STORM.
THERE came a wind like a bugle; It quivered through the grass, And a green chill upon the heat So ominous did pass We barred the windows and the doors As from an emerald ghost; The doom's electric moccason That very instant passed. On a strange mob of panting trees, And fences fled away, And rivers where the houses ran The living looked that day. The bell within the steeple wild The flying tidings whirled. How much can come And much can go, And yet abide the world!
# There came a Wind like a Bugle—

* "The Storm" in Poems: Second Series (1891)
* "There came a wind like a bugle" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)
# The Fate of Adelaide, a Swiss Romantic Tale; and Other Poems/Storm

THE STORM.
There was a vessel combating the waves,
Like one who struggles with adversity:
The sea has wash'd her decks, and the wet sails
Hang droopingly; by the blue lightning's flash—
Light horrible and strange—there might be seen
All shapes of wild despair; the clasped hands,
Rais'd in scarce-conscious prayer, the cold white lip,
The stern fix'd brow, which braves the death that yet
The fainting pulses tremble at; and sounds Of sobs suppress'd, and mutter'd words, were heard, When the winds sank in low and solemn wail— A breathing space of terror, but to rouse More fearfully. That tempest had swept o'er The awaken'd deep so suddenly, it seem'd As some unholy spell had call'd it forth— Summon'd, unthought of, from its secret home. Lost in the fair blue sky, where scarce a cloud Was seen, save those that threw their rosy wreaths Upon the west, to hail the approaching sun, Like flowers strewn upon the conqueror's way. The ocean hush'd in beautiful repose, Seem'd fitting mirror for the pale young moon, And the soft light of the sweet evening star. Sailing in majesty and loveliness, The vessel cut the waters, which did seem To pay her homage, as unto their queen; And far in the horizon was a speck,
Scarce visible, but watch’d as anxiously
As would a mother watch the first faint tinge
Of health revisiting her child's wan cheek,
Where every thought and hope had long time clung— Light of the voyage drear—their native shore.
A sound breaks the still silence, and a cloud
Is gathering on the air: that sound is not
The tumult of the storm; and the dark roll
Of yon black volume, rising streak'd with fire,
Is not the tempest's dwelling;—'tis the breath,
The fiery breath of war; and man has dar'd
Profane the quiet of an hour like this!
Battle ! destruction!—does the world contain
One spot, whereon your baneful taint is not?—
A thicker darkness gathers; 'tis not now
Alone the dense smoke curling; hark, yon roll!
Echoing the cannon, as in mockery.
The winds have burst their slumber, and are risen,
Like waken'd giants, wrathful at their rest.
The foes are sunder'd; there is many a cheek,
Late warm with pride of battle, pale and cold.
Came not the storm upon their warfare like
A sign, a fearful warning?—on it swept;
Foam crested the dark billows as they dash'd,
Like armed warriors rushing to the field
Upon the shore; and gleaming flashes rose,
As when the clashing weapons meet in war.
And still against the moveless rock, the sea
Led on her armies; and the howling winds
Pour'd their war-song in murmurs, fierce and loud,
As they did triumph in the desolate power
That urg'd them now. There was just light enough
To show the black clouds hung upon the sky,
Like ministers of vengeance; and the swell
Of the pil'd waters—that most fearful sight
Of human creatures perishing, with scarce
One moment's warning ere their doom is seal'd.
The lightnings rush'd, and that tost ship is seen
Rais'd on the mountain waves—another flash!
There are the angry billows—but no trace
Of living thing is seen.
# Storm

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Storm"
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, taxonomy, 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.

### Storm

* “Storm,” a poem by Elizabeth Margaret Chandler
* “Storm,” a poem by Emily Dickinson
* “Storm,” a poem by Robert Louis Stevenson

### A Storm

* “A Storm,” a poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter

### The Storm

* “The Storm” (Cease, rude Boreas, blust’ring railer), anonymous
* “The Storm,” a poem by Cora C. Bass
* “The Storm,” a poem by Ann Eliza Bleecker
* “The Storm,” a poem by John Ravenor Bullen
* “The Storm,” a poem by Dorothea Primrose Campbell
* “The Storm,” a poem by Olive Custance
* “The Storm,” a poem by Annie Isabel Curwen
* The Storm, a journalistic book by Daniel Defoe
* “The Storm,” a poem by Emily Dickinson
* “The Storm,” a verse letter by John Donne
* “The Storm,” a poem by Mary A. Geisse
* “The Storm,” a poem by Hannah Flagg Gould
* “The Storm,” a poem by George Herbert
* “The Storm,” a poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
* “The Storm,” a poem by Katherine Mansfield
* “The Storm,” a poem by Adam Bernard Mickiewicz
* “The Storm,” a poem by Adelaide Anne Procter
* “The Storm,” a poem by Lynn K. Rumell
* “The Storm,” a poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
* “The Storm,” a poem by Sara Teasdale
* “The Storm,” a short story by Sarah Elizabeth Utterson

### Encyclopedia articles

* "Storm," in A Dictionary of Music and Musicians, (ed.) by George Grove, London: MacMillan & Co., Ltd. (1900)
* "Storm," in Encyclopædia Britannica (11th ed., 1911)
* "Storm," in The New International Encyclopædia, New York: Dodd, Mead and Co. (1905)
# 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica/Storm

See also Storm on Wikipedia; and our 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica disclaimer.
​STORM (in O. Eng. storm, and so in Du. and Low Ger.; in O. H. Ger. and mod. Ger. Sturm; the root is probably that seen in “stir,” to rouse, move, disturb, cf. Ger. stören), a disturbance of the atmosphere, accompanied by high winds or by heavy falls of rain, hail or snow, together with thunder and lightning. The word is not a part of scientific terminology, such terms as “area of low pressure” and “cyclone” being used. In the Beaufort scale (q.v.) the wind-force of a storm is estimated at 10-11 and the limit of velocity at from 56 to 75 m. per hour. (See Meteorology, and for magnetic storms Magnetism, Terrestrial.)
# The Conservative (Lovecraft)/July 1923/The Storm

The Storm By John Ravenor Bullen
Beware! Beware! that sullen cloud, The Tempest’s ebon form, Though deathly still....its darkness dense Is herald of a wrath intense.... The calm before the storm.
Hark to the distant moaning sound, The soul with dread it fills; The trees are trembling with affright, As the wind shrieks out of the dismal night, And echoes through the hills
Behold the raging tempest’s might, The heav’ns are streak’d with fire. The lightning paints its lurid scars, The thunder bursts its prison bars, So fierce the storm king’s ire.
Lash’d by the gale, the once calm sea Now writhes in tortur’d pain, The foam-capp’d billows roar with rage, And fierce in fight with the shore engage, But rear their crests in vain.
Stay! but stay! the scene is chang’d, All, now, is ere and calm; The driven clouds have ceas’d their tears, The Earth hath cast away her fears, Peace reigns where once alarm.
# Three Famous New Songs

THREE
Famous New Songs
CALLED
Effects of Whisky.
The Valley Below.
Larry O‘Gaff.
PAISLEY:
Printed by and for G. Caldwell, Jun.
Bookseller, 69, High Street.
Poems:
* Effects of Whisky
* The Beauty of the Valley Below
* Larry O'Gaff
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
# Three Famous New Songs/Effects of Whisky

Effects of Whisky.
Whisky maks us sometimes foolish, Whisky maks our pockets light, Whisky maks us aften mulish, Whisky gars us aften fight.
Whisky sometimes cures the head-ache, Whisky aften cures the gripes Whisky aye can cure the tooth-ache, Whisky’s gude when ta’en wi’ swipes.
Whisky maks us scant o’ money, Whisky maks an empty house, Whisky maks us mair than funny, Whisky gars us a’ crack crouse.
Whisky’s gude for a’ complainin’, Whisky cures when doctors fail, Whisky cheers a winter’s evening, Whisky quicken’s head and tail.
Whisky still brings on distempers, Whisky kills, but canna cure, Whisky changes a’ our tempers, Whisky maks few rich, but many poor.
Whisky gars slow tongues gang quicker, Whisky turn the quick to slow, Whisky is a potent liquor, Whisky answers yes or no.
Whisky secrets ne’er can keep, Whisky aften tells the truth, Whisky is a friend o’ sleep, Whisky maks a grey hair’d youth.
Whisky worketh every evil, Whisky maks my conscience pine, Whisky it can dare the devil, Whisky is the prince of crime,
Whisky’s praise could ne’er be ended, Whisky’s wars are sad and lang, Whisky still is we’el befriended, Whisky finishes this sang.