OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Three Famous New Songs/The Beauty of the Valley Below

The Beauty of the Valley Below.
Ye Muses divine, your theme pray refine ⟨To⟩ characterize a beautifull maid Whose bright celestial charms ⟨My⟩ senses has alarmed ⟨By⟩ her angelic form I’m subdued
Fair Helen of Venus with her cannot vie She appeared like an angel unto my eye I submissively approached her On my word you may rely I espied her in yon valley below In amazement I gazed on that bright celestial creature With my blood trembling in every vein Like Cupid alarmed my passion assailed I exclaimed in a tottering pain Saying you bright celestial charms Your aid I implore to extricate my misery My liberty restore I am deeply bewailing come aid therefore For the beauty of the valley below Dame nature has studied to form each feature She’s an ornament of the creation I’m sure Her majestic department and angler ⟨statre⟩ Are the sources of those tortures I endure In excruciating torturee I’m sorely oppressed And by nocturnal phantoms am I deprived of my rest I’m involved in misery and sorlely oppresed For the beauty of the valley below The gods from Olimpus view’d her with
As she gracefully moved along Attend by that godess whom they call Venus Or the nymphs that around her does throng Still viewed her with admiration That sweet nymph divine It is on her that those graces Does perpetually shine She is altogether lovely Oh! if she was mine She’s the beauty of the valley below Her hair in golden traces On her shoulders doth adorn And her cheeks are of vermillion dye Her eyes shine with lustre My senses has alarmed Indian pearl with her teeth cannot vie Pandora whom the Gods With such graces has endowed Was never so resplendant as by angels Or the train of captive lovers That daily does surround the beauty of the valley below Was I richer than great Alexander Or a ruler of the terrestrial ball
That seraphic fair one I freely would give For she totally proves my downfall In deep reverbration I’ll range the world o’er Namely from the pole to the Altlantic Still void of consolation now & for ever For the beauty of the valley below.
# Three Famous New Songs/Larry O'Gaff

Larry O‘Gaff.
Near a bog in sweet Ireland I’m told sure that born I was; Well I remember a fine muddy morn it was; My father, poor man, would cry “What a green horn I was! Three months I’m married—O dear, how they’ll laugh! Says he to my mother,—“Troth, Judy I’ll leave you joy!” Says Judy to him—“Och, the devil may cure, my boy St. Patrick,” says he, “but I’ll leave you both here to cry What will we do for our Mr. O’Gaff? With my dideroo whack, off I am, None of your blarney, ma’am, Keep your brat, to him chat All the day, so you may; By the powers I won’t tarry!”—So he left little Larry, And I never saw more of my daddy O’Gaff.
O then I grew up, and a sweet looking chick I was Always the devil for twirltng the stick I was; But somehow or other my numscull so thick it was Go where I would every creature would laugh. I rambled to England, where I met with a squad of boys, Got me promoted to carry the hod, my boys; I crept up the ladder like a cat newly shod, my boys— “A steep way to riches,” quoth Larry O’Gaff. Crying dideroo whack, in and out. Ladder crack, break your back, Head tnrning round about, Ladder crack, break your back, Tumble down, crack yovr crown! My dear master Larry, this hod that you carry Disgraces the shoulders of Mr O’Gaff.
Then I got a master, and dress’d like a fop I was, Bran new and span new from bottom to top I was; But the ould fellow popt in as taking a drop I was Says he “Mr. Larry, yon hog trotting calf, Get out of my house, or I’ll lay ahis about your back!” The twig in his fist like the mast of a herring-smack; Over my napper he soon made the switch to crack, So he turned off Mr. Lawrence O’Gaff. Singing “dideroo whack, hubbub-bow, Drams beating rowdy-dow,
Od’s my life, play the fife, Patrick’s day, fire away! In the army so frisky, I’ll tipyle their whisky, With a whack for old Ireland,” says Larry O’Gaff Then they made me a soldier,—but O, how genteel I was! Scarlet and tape from the head to the heel I was “But Larry,” says I, when brought into the field I was, ‘Larry, you dont like this fighting by half! But we fought like the devil, as Irishmen ought to do Neatly we beat Mr. Boney at Waterloo; Now the war’s over and peace we have got for you Welcome to Ireland sweet Larry O’Gaff! With my dideroo whack, saved my neck, Round and sound free from wound, With a wife spend my life. Sport and play, night and day!
Arrah none of your blarney, for the breed of the Kearney, Would die for old Ireland, with Larry O’Gaff.
Finis.
# The Conservative (Lovecraft)/October 1915/Socialism

Socialism
By John Russell
Now just a word between us two: What truly is the end in view? Must we all share and share alike, From Algy down to Irish Mike? Must the skill'd doctor, with his brains, Be satisfy'd with such small gains As his who wields the lowly pick, Or carries hods of lime and brick? And must the man who can invent, With equal profit be content To his who labours on the street, Or in the meadows mows the wheat? Won't some be rich and others poor, And human nature still endure? Or must within one stagnant "pool" Go wage of wise man and of fool; And with the same fix't wage be paid The skill'd stenographer and maid? And what about the leaders then; Will they share with the working men? I rather think these worthies would Prefer to grab the most they could! I'm sure that this is not the plan To benefit the working man.
As for myself, I frankly say: Just give me work and decent pay, And dreamers will in vain insist That I become a socialist.
# The Conservative (Lovecraft)/October 1915/An Impartial Spectator

An Impartial Spectator
Mr. John Russell, the United's clever satirist, has composed the following lines concerning the controversy over regular metre lately waged through the pages of The Looking Glass, The Lake Breeze, and the Conservative:
Metrical Regularity;
Or, Broken Metre.
Dear Youth, if you would be a poet, Pray study this, and see you know it: With careful rhyme and one smooth metre, Your poem can't but be much neater. Should you prefer to rhyme in anapaest, Convinc'd that such conveys your fancy best, Change not the form, nor try heroic lines, Howe'er your fleeting mood your pen inclines. Just see that you hold to the same old refrain, For if you change once, sure you'll change it again. And the critics (confound them) will haughtily say 'Tis the worst thing they've seen for full many a day. And now, in conclusion, pray shun the illusion That all you've to do is to write: If you study your rhymes; feet, metre and times, You'll a masterpiece some day indite!
J.R.
​While Mr. Russell's words seem to constitute a very keen thrust at the Conservative, his cleverly varied metre satirizes with equal keenness the other side of the discussion; wherefore he must be classified by means of that much abused hypothetical term, "neutral".
# Midland Naturalist/Volume 01/Parasites of Man

Parasites of Man.
By T. Spencer Colbold, M.D., F.R.S.
I feel sure I need not apologise for bringing under the notice of workers in Science a list of the human Entozoa and Ectozoa. No complete and trustworthy record, brought down to the present time, exists. In view of rendering my list less bald than a mere catalogue of species would inevitably prove, I shall append a few particulars relating to the synonymy of each parasite, its larval condition, and the organ or tissue of the hast it usually occupies. Omitting the Protozoa, I confine my attention to the following six parasitic groups:—1. Trematoda; Flukes. 2. Cestoda; Tapeworms. 3. Nematoda; Roundworms and Threadworms. 4. Acanthocephala; Thorn-healed worms, 5. Insecta; including all such dipterous, aphanipterous, and hemipterous insects as are either wholly or partially parasitic. 6. Arachnida: including all those trachearian forms, such as the mites and their allies, which are often vulgarly and erroneously termed scab, or itch-insects. Such is the bill of fare that I have now to offer, and, should it be found presentable and useful, it is proposed to follow it up at some future time by the publication of similar lists relating to the parasites of the horse and other domesticated animals.
As I cannot have the pleasure of reading these papers personally to the Section, and as I am desirous of making them as generally interesting to the members as the subject will permit, I have requested my friend, Mr. W. R. Hughes, to communicate the papers, and to exhibit some specimens on my behalf. The slides and preparations from my cabinet will be chiefly illustrative of the more remarkable forms of Entozoa enumerated in the lists.
Trematoda.
1.—Fasciola hepatica, Linnæus.
2—Distoma lanceolatum, Mehlis.
3.—Distona crassum, Busk.
4.—Distoma sinense, Cobbold.
5 —Distoma conjunctum, Cobbold.
6.—Distome heterophyes, Siebold.
7.—Distoma ophthalmobium, Diesing.
8.—Tetrastomea renale, Delle-Chiaje.
9.—Hexathyridium pinguieola, Trentler.
​ 10.—Hezathyridium venarum, Treutler.
11.—Amphistoma hominis, Lewis and McConnell.
12.—Bilharzia kemetobia, Cobbold.
[To Be Continued.]
* ↑ Read before the Microscopical Section of the Birmingham Natural History and Microscopical Society, February 19th, 1878.
* ↑ The specimens exhibited were, the common fluke, (F. hepatica,) the lancet-shaped fluke, (D. lanceolatum,) the large human fluke, (D. crassum,) the Chinese or McConnnell's fluke, (D. sinense,) the conjoined fluke, (D. conjanactum,) the minute Egyptian fluke, (D. heterophyes) and Bilharz's fluke (B. hæmulobia.)
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 Poetical Works of Jonathan E. Hoag/A Tribute

A Tribute
To Jonathan E. Hoag, Esq.
Arthur H. Goodenough.
# Tribute

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Tribute"
* 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.
* "A Tribute" ("Behold a marvel in these latter days!"), a poem by Arthur Henry Goodenough
* "Tribute" (1908, "I seen you at de show de other day"), a poem by James Percival Haverson
* "Tribute", a poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
* "A Tribute" (1815, "There rose a plant from shades obscure"), a poem by Lydia Sigourney
* "Tribute" (1923, "The shadows of the camels are long"), a poem by Elizabeth Jane Coatsworth
* "Tribute", a poem by Mariana Griswold Van Rensselaer

## See also

* Dedication
# The Conservative (Lovecraft)/October 1916/The Unknown

Elizabeth Berkeley is a pseudonym for Winifred Virginia Jackson, but this poem was actually written by Lovecraft.
The Unknown
A seething sky-- A mottled moon-- Waves surging high-- Storm's raving rune:
Wild clouds a-reel-- Wild sounds a-shout-- Black vapours steal In ghastly rout.
Through rift is shot The moon's wan grace-- But God! That blot Upon its face!
Elizabeth Berkeley
# Midland Naturalist/Volume 01/Pond Life

Pond Life.
With my friend S. S. R., I have again visited the "Productive Pond," (ante p 76,) and two others, in one of which my friend had some time back found Melicerta tyro, the new species found by Dr. Hudson at Sutton Coldfield. At first we thought we had found a specimen, but it proved to be Foscularia campanulata, with a large cluster of eggs at the bottom of the case surrounding its foot. I am sorry to report that Conochilas volvox is becoming scarce, There are, however, other rotifers in great abundance. I found the following this day, (March 16th,) besides other forms of animal and vegetable life too numerous to mention:—Chætonotus larus, Conochilus volvox, Cephalosiphon limnias, Melicerta ringens, Floscularia campanulata, Notommata aurita, Synchæta pecttinata, Polyarthra platutyptera, Ratlus lanaris, Mastigocerca rattus, Euchlanis dilatata, Salpina mucronata, Metopidia acuminata, Rotifer vulgaris, and two other species which I could not identify. One of the ponds we found literally full of Volvox globator. Recently I spent a day at Sutton Park, and found Limnias ceratophylli in extraordinary abundance, and a few specimens of Stephanoceros Eichhornii and Melicerta ringens. In another locality I found a great abundance of Anuræt aecminata, a sprinkling of Pterodina patina, and some few specimens of Anuræa foliacea and Dinocharis pocillum—On the 21st February I found here, for the first time this season, the fine Polyzoan Fredericella sultana. This is, I think, very early for its appearance in a natural habitat. In a zoophyte trough I have now some fine young Plumatella repens just commencing life, and protruding their lophophores whilst still enclosed between the valve-like plates of the statoblasts. from which they have grown. They are objects of great beauty and, being very transparent, their anatomy is plainly visible under the microscope.—Thos. Bolton, Hyde House, Stourbridge.
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
# Wrostella's Weird (Ludgate Monthly serial)

* information about this edition
* sister projects: Wikidata item
As serialized in The Ludgate Monthly, 1893 March and April. Accompanying illustrations by Arthur Hitchcock (UK; unknown death-year) omitted. Weird here is used as in dreeing one's weird: submitting to one's fate.
Terry Fitzgerald, a blue-eyed young Irishman, has fallen heir to Wrostella Castle, a bleak and lonely retreat by the sea. According to the terms of the will by which he inherited the castle, the owner must live there at least four months in the year. Thither Fitzgerald brings his fascinating Parisian bride to pass the honeymoon. Some grewsome experiences follow.... —excerpted from The Art Amateur, June 1893. Full review(s) are on the Discussion page.
Wrostella's Weird
by Helen Mathers
(not listed in original)
* PART I March 1892
** Introduction
** Chapter I
** Chapter II
* PART II March 1892
** Chapter I
** Chapter II
** Chapter III
** Chapter IV
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
# Tourists

"Automobile Sport"
TOURISTS
by Raymond S. Spears
THOUSANDS, literally millions, of people are making automobile tours of varied distances. The instinctive urge to migrate has found its ready answer in flivver or twelve-cylinder limousine. Any highway leads to all the roadways in the country. One can roll out of his own yard, along his own alley, and strike the transcontinental, or ocean to ocean trail—and the land of the Nation lies before him.
Never was adventure so completely at the command of average humanity. The home-bodies, who twenty years ago regarded a fifty, even a twenty-mile journey with dread, now roll away forty miles after supper to visit some sister, brother or friend. Actually, it is easier to drive an automobile five hundred miles than it used to be to drive a horse seventy-five miles.
Some regions are and always must be an adventure to visit; the Rockies, the deserts, the Sierras, for example, offer some highway approaches. But for all time precipices must be skirted, thirst con fronted, and the possibility of cloudburst or accident figured into one’s calculations on that stretch of twelve hundred or so miles, from eastern Rockies to western Sierras.
No less interesting are the Cumberlands, the Appalachian system that reaches from Katahdin to the picturesque bluffs that mark the Great Bend of the Tennessee. Fine roads lead one to the forested mountains, but the ridges and the valleys are forever the answer of the human longing to climb, and no matter how well the main trails are built, side roads are sure to lead into difficulty and make demand on the tourist’s ingenuity and resourcefulness.
The marvel is that so few of the automobile travelers—men, women, and children—do meet genuine, hard-to-bear troubles. Lacking money, husky manhood rustles a job; a mother takes care of an ailing child; and a break-down or stall in desert waste or bottom-land flood but seems to add to the joy of one’s lists of memories.
The water-tank on the running board is sure sign of the tourist’s experience and preparedness. With good water, almost any kind of grub, and makeshift outfit—well, five million wanderers are answering the road call.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1930.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1950, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 74 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The London Quarterly Review/39/Feuerbach

The London Quarterly Review, Vol. 39, No. 78 (January, 1873): pp. 468-69.
Feuerbach.
On September 13th, departed this life Ludwig Feuerbach, in the sixty-eighth year of his age. The history of recent philosophy, rich as it is in destructive workers, has no name more conspicuous in destruction of all that men should hold dear than the name of Feuerbach. Forty years ago he passed through Hegelian Pantheism to sheer Atheism. In 1841 he published his Wesen des Christenthums, a blasphemous work, in which Atheism passes into Antitheism, that is, into direct enmity to the very idea of any God whatever. In it the religious principle is made the root of all evil; and truth is only to be found in the utter destruction of every so-called spiritual idea. As years rolled on he went further still: he abandoned the notion that man is in any sense a rational being; and proclaimed the fundamental principle of the new philosophy to be this, that "the body is the I, and only that which is sensible, or pertaining to sense, is real." As a deduction from this, external nature was placed above man, and this much admired philosopher uprooted the principles of all philosophy. The following are his own words, describing the process of his intellectual development: "God was my first thought, reason my second; man is my third and last thought." But what he understood by man appears from another and still better known apophthegm of his, "that which man eats man is." Hence, Feuerbach may be called the father of modern materialism; and, in Germany, at least, he has done more than any man to reduce human thinking to its lowest level of brutish inconsistency. It is not to be wondered at that the spirit of destructiveness in religion led him and his followers to a similar destructiveness in social and political theories. He was at the bottom of much of the feverish spirit of recent German radicalism; and he died as the representative of a firm and perfect hatred of all civil and political order. When it is added that he closed his days at Nuremberg in poverty and misery, it seems only like the fitting though lamentable end of such a man.
# Lydia of the Pines

* information about this edition
* sister projects: Wikidata item
Lydia of the Pines seems to me, despite its catchpenny title, an American novel of uncommon merit. It is a romance of girlhood, of schoolgirlhood even, which quite escapes silliness on the one hand and goody-goodiness on the other.... an excellent story of a human and lovable girl learning to be a woman. Its style, especially in the dialogue, is uncommonly sincere, the real vernacular, without exaggeration or codification. —The Bookman, April 1917. (Full review on the Discussion page.)
LYDIA
LYDIA OF THE PINES
BY HONORÉ WILLSIE
AUTHOR OF "THE HEART OF THE DESERT, "STILL JIM," ETC.
WITH A FRONTISPIECE BY ERIC PAPE
Copyright, 1917, by
Frederick A. Stokes Company
All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign languages

### CONTENTS

* chapterpage
* I The Toy Balloon 1
* II The Heroic Day 19
* III The Cottage 38
* IV The Ravished Nest 58
* V Adam 75
* VI The Cooking Class 93
* VII The Republican Candidate 110
* VIII The Note 128
* IX The Election 145
* X The Camp 164
* XI Lydia Giggles 179
* XII The High School Senior 197
* XIII The Indian Celebration 217
* XIV The Harvard Instructor 238
* XV The Investigation Begins 256
* XVI Ducit Amor Patriae 272
* XVII The Military Hop 289
* XVIII The End of a Great Search 305
* XIX Cap and Gown 321
* XX The Youngest Scholar 339
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1930.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1940, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 84 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Skeleton Key/Chapter 21
### CHAPTER XXI
#### A LAST WORD

Miss Kennett, still in process of qualifying herself for a musician, was at work on Czerny's fifth exercise which, like the pons asinorum of an earlier strategist could present an insuperable problem to an intelligence already painful master of the four preceding. To pick up one note with her was, like the clown with the packages, to drop half a dozen others; to give its proper value to the right hand was to leave the left struggling in a partial paralysis. Still she persevered, lips counting, eyes glued to the page, pretty fingers sprawling, until a sudden laugh at the open door of the room startled her efforts into a shiver of unexpected harmony. She looked up with a shake and a smile that suggested somehow to the observer a bird scattering water from its wings in a sunshiny basin.
'O, Frank!' she exclaimed, and stretched herself with glistening easefulness.
'You p-poor goose,' he answered. 'You'll never play, you know.'
She jumped up with a cry, and ran to him.
'Do you mean it? Are you sure?'
'Absolutely.'
'Would you mind if I didn't?'
'Not half so m-much as I should if you did.'
'But I tried, to please you, you know.'
'But it doesn't please me, you know.'
She looked at him doubtfully. He took her hands, his eyes glowing.
'I love you for trying, you dear,' he said, 'but I shouldn't love you if I let you go on trying—nor, I expect, would any one else.'
'Pig!' she exclaimed.
'Audrey,' he said, 'you couldn't play when I fell in love with you, so why should I wish you to now? It would never be yourself; and that's what I want of all things. Let every one develop the best that's in him, and leave affectation to the donkeys. So you'll just come over to Barton's farm with me, to give me your advice about the loveliest litter of bull-pups you ever saw.'
He had something to say to her, and when they were on their way he came out with it soberly.
'I wanted just to tell you—he left a full confession; and—and it showed how the Baron had been right in almost every particular.'
She made no answer for a little; but presently she said softly, 'I think I should like to be the one, Frank, to write and tell him so.'
'Yes, Audrey.'
Again the silence fell between them, and again she broke it in the same tone.
'We heard from Hughie this morning—only a short letter. He wrote from Karachi, where they had just landed. They were going straight on to Rawul Pindi.'
He nodded.
'Now let us talk of something else.'
GLASGOW; W. COLLINS SONS AND CO. LTD.