OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Poems of Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in The Keepsake, 1832/Do You Remember It?

* DO YOU REMEMBER IT.
* Painted by Miss L. SharpeEngraved by Chas. Heath
DO YOU REMEMBER IT?
BY L. E. L.
I.
Do you remember that purple twilight's falling,
 As if it were the atmosphere of some fairy land?
One pale star to its lingering kindred calling,
 Was alone in the sky of all night's spirit band.
To and fro, mournfully the oak boughs were swinging,
 For a soft warm wind put the branches aside;
Afar a little river wound through the meadow, singing
 To the tall grass and wild flowers hanging o'er its tide.
Down at our feet the blue violets were growing,
 We saw not their blossoms, but we felt that they were fair,
For the fresh and fragrant rain of young April's bestowing,
 Fell from their leaves as they opened to the air.
Deep fell the shadows round, each could see only
 The dark outline softening of the other's face;
Thick closed the trees above, earth held no such lonely,
 Nor, as we then deem'd, so lovely a place.
Sweet was the silence, but sweeter was it broken
 By words such as Love whispers once in his youth,
When leaf, star, and night, are each taken for a token,
 And a witness, though we doubted not, of such stainless truth;
Hope with its fever, and memory with its sorrow,
 Came not o'er a moment, whose joy stood alone:
There are some days which never know a morrow,
 And the day when Love first finds utterance is one—
Do you remember it?
II.
Still the blue violets by the oak are shaded,
 Time in that quiet grove has left no trace;
But as the colours of this picture are faded,
 So are the colours the heart threw o'er the place.
Passion and picture were each a fair delusion,
 Tears have washed the brightness of each away;
Why should we wake from such beautiful illusion,
 To know that life's happiness was lavish'd on a day?
And yet we are not false mid absence and mid strangers;
 Mid trial and mid time, how dearly we've loved on;
Faithful through all that the faith of love endangers,
 Though we feel that the dream of our earlier love is gone.
We have heard the heart's religion, its holy truth derided,
 And the sneer, if not admitted has yet profaned;
By the world's many busy cares our thoughts have been divided,
 And selfishness has harden'd whatever ground it gain'd.
When I think how that affection is bless'd beyond all measure,
 The last best trace of heaven our earth retains,
I marvel how ambition, or vanity, or pleasure,
 E'er have power to relax, or to break its gentle chains.
My spirit ponders mournfully, my eyes are dim with weeping,
 Aside for a moment all life's worldliness is cast;
The flowers and the green leaves their summer watch are keeping,
 And I dream beneath their shadow of the shadow of the past.
Do you remember it?
# Poems of Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in The Keepsake, 1832/Edith

EDITH.
BY L. E. L.
Weep not, weep not, that in the spring
 We have to make a grave;
The flowers will grow, the birds will sing,
 The early roses wave:
And make the sod we 're spreading fair,
 For her who sleeps below;
We might not bear to lay her there,
 In winter frost and snow.
We never hoped to keep her long,
 When but a fairy child,
With dancing step, and birdlike song,
 And eyes that only smiled;
A something shadowy and frail
 Was even in her mirth;
She look'd a flower that one rough gale
 Would bear away from earth.
There was too clear and blue a light
 Within her radiant eyes,
They were too beautiful, too bright,
 Too like their native skies:
Too changeable the rose which shed
 Its colour on her face,
Now burning with a passionate red,
 Now with just one faint trace.
She was too thoughtful for her years,
 Its shell the spirit wore;
And when she smiled away our fears,
 We only feared the more.
The crimson deepen'd on her cheek,
 Her blue eyes shone more clear,
And every day she grew more weak,
 And every hour more dear.
Her childhood was a happy time,
 The loving and beloved;
Yon sky which was her native clime
 Hath but its own removed.
This earth was not for one, to whom
 Nothing of earth was given;
'Twas but a resting place, her tomb,
 Between the world and heaven.
# Poems of Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in The Keepsake, 1833/The Adieu

* THE ADIEU
* Artist A. E. Chalon R. A.Engraved by C. Heath
THE ADIEU.
BY L. E. L.
We'll miss her at the morning hour,
 When leaves and eyes unclose;
When sunshine calls the dewy flower
 To waken from repose;
For, like the singing of a bird,
 When first the sunbeams fall,
The gladness of her voice was heard
 The earliest of us all.
We'll miss her at the evening time,
 For then her voice and lute
Best loved to sing some sweet old rhyme,
 When other sounds were mute.—
Twined round the ancient window-seat,
 While she was singing there,
The jasmine from outside would meet,
 And wreathe her fragrant hair.
We'll miss her when we gather round
 Our blazing hearth at night,
When ancient memories abound,
 Or hopes where all unite; And pleasant talk of years to come—
 Those years our fancies frame.
Ah! she has now another home,  And bears another name.
Her heart is not with our old hall,
 Nor with the things of yore;
And yet, methinks she must recall
 What was so dear before.
She wept to leave the fond roof where
 She had been loved so long,
Though glad the peal upon the air,
 And gay the bridal throng.
Yes, memory has honey cells,
 And some of them are ours, For in the sweetest of them dwells
 The dream of early hours.
The hearth, the hall, the window-seat,
 Will bring us to her mind;
In yon wide world she cannot meet
 All that she left behind.
Loved, and beloved, her own sweet will
 It was that made her fate;
She has a fairy home—but still
 Our own seems desolate.
We may not wish her back again,
 Not for her own dear sake:
Oh! love, to form one happy chain,
 How many thou must break!
# Poems (Greenwood)/To Fitz-Greene Halleck

VALENTINES.
# Poems of Felicia Hemans in The Court Magazine Volume III 1833/The Wandering Wind

The Court Magazine, 1833, Volume III, Page 134
III.—THE WANDERING WIND.
The wind, the wandering wind
 Of golden summer eves!
Whence is the thrilling magic
 Of its tones among the leaves?
Oh, is it from the waters
 Or from the long, tall grass?
Or is it from the hollow rocks
 Through which its breathings pass?
Or is it from the voices
 Of all in one combined,
That it wins the tone of mastery?
 The wind, the wandering wind!
No, no, the strange sweet accents
 That with it come and go,
They are not from the osiers,
 Or the fir-trees, whispering low.
They are not of the river,
 Nor of the caverned hill:
'Tis the human love within us
 That gives them power to thrill.
They touch the links of memory
 Around our spirits twined,
And we start, and weep, and tremble,
 To the wind, the wandering wind!
# Poems of Felicia Hemans in The Court Magazine Volume IV 1834/"And I Too in Arcadia!"

The Court Magazine, 1834, Volume IV, Page 25
SUMMER SONGS BY MRS. HEMANS—No. VI.
"AND I TOO IN ARCADIA!"
A celebrated picture, by Poussin, representing a band of youths and maidens suddenly coming upon a tomb which bears the inscription "Et in Arcadia ego."
They have wandered in their glee
With the butterfly and bee,
They have climbed o'er heathery swells,
They have wound thro' forest dells,
Mountain moss hath felt their tread,
Woodland streams their way have led;
Flowers in deepest Oread nooks,
Nurslings of the loneliest brooks,
Unto them have yielded up
Fragrant Bell and starry Cup;
Chaplets are on every brow,
What hath staid the wanderers now? Lo! a grey and rustic tomb
Bowered amidst the rich wood gloom
"I too, shepherds! in Arcadia dwelt!"
There is many a summer sound
That pale sepulchre around;
Thro' the shade young birds are glancing
Insect wings in sun-streaks dancing,
Glimpses of blue festal skies
Pouring in when soft winds rise;
Violets o'er the turf below
Shedding out their warmest glow;
Yet a spirit not its own,
O'er the greenwood now is thrown!
Something of an under note
Through its music seems to float,
Something of a stillness grey
Creeps across the laughing day,
"I too, shepherds, in Arcadia dwelt."
Was some gentle kindred maid
In that grave with dirges laid?
Some fair creature, with the tone
Of whose voice a joy is gone,
Leaving melody and mirth
Poorer on this altered Earth?
Is it thus? that so they stand,
Dropping flowers from every hand;
Flowers, and Lyres, and gathered store
Of red wild-fruit, prized no more?
No, from that bright band of morn
Not one link hath yet been torn;
'Tis the Shadow of the Tomb,
Falling thus o'er Summer's bloom,
O'er the flush of Love and Life,
Passing with a sudden strife:
'Tis the low, prophetic breath
Rising from the house of death,
"I too, shepherds, in Arcadia dwelt."
# Poems of Felicia Hemans in The Court Magazine Volume III 1833

This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
This work is available under the Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication.
The person who associated a work with this deed has dedicated the work to the public domain by waiving all of their rights to the work worldwide under copyright law, including all related and neighboring rights, to the extent allowed by law. You can copy, modify, distribute and perform the work, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
Poems of Felicia Hemans in The Court Magazine Volume III 1833
Compiled By Peter J. Bolton
| I | A Song of the Rose |
| II | Night-Blowing Flowers |
| III | The Wandering Wind |
| IV | O, Ye Hours! |
# Poems of Felicia Hemans in The Court Magazine Volume III 1833/O, Ye Hours!

The Court Magazine, 1833, Volume III, Page 185
IV.—O, YE HOURS!
O ye hours, ye sunny hours!
 Floating lightly by,
Are ye come with birds and flowers,
 Odours and blue sky?
Yes, we come, again we come,
 Through the wood-paths free;
Bringing many a wanderer home,
 With the bird and bee.
O ye hours, ye sunny hours!
 Are ye wafting song?
Doth wild music stream in showers
 All the groves among?
Yes, the nightingale is there,
 While the starlight reigns,
Making young leaves and sweet air
 Tremble with her strains.
O ye hours, ye sunny hours!
 In your silent flow
Ye are mighty, mighty powers!
 Bring ye bliss or woe?
Ask not this—oh! seek not this!
 Yield your hearts awhile
To the soft wind's balmy kiss,
 And the heaven's bright smile!
Throw not shades of anxious thought
 O'er the glowing flowers!
We are come, with sunshine fraught,
 Question not the hours!
# Poems of Felicia Hemans in The Court Magazine Volume IV 1834

This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
This work is available under the Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication.
The person who associated a work with this deed has dedicated the work to the public domain by waiving all of their rights to the work worldwide under copyright law, including all related and neighboring rights, to the extent allowed by law. You can copy, modify, distribute and perform the work, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
Poems of Felicia Hemans in The Court Magazine Volume IV 1834
Compiled By Peter J. Bolton
| Summer Songs | V | The Fallen Lime Tree |
| | VI | "And I Too in Arcadia!" |
| Scene from Manzoni's 'Il Conte di Carmagnola' | | |
# Poems of Felicia Hemans in The Dublin University Magazine Volume 3 1834

This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
This work is available under the Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication.
The person who associated a work with this deed has dedicated the work to the public domain by waiving all of their rights to the work worldwide under copyright law, including all related and neighboring rights, to the extent allowed by law. You can copy, modify, distribute and perform the work, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
Poems of Felicia Hemans in The Dublin University Magazine Volume 3 1834
Compiled By Peter J. Bolton
Contents
* Come Away!
* The Wanderer (Schmidt von Lübeck)
* On the Defeat of King Sebastian of Portugal, and his Army, in Africa (Herrera)
# Poems of Felicia Hemans in The Court Magazine Volume III 1833/A Song of the Rose

The Court Magazine, 1833, Volume III, Pages 45-46
SUMMER SONGS, BY MRS. HEMANS.
I.—A SONG OF THE ROSE.
Hast thou no fears, O thou exulting thing;
Thus looking forth on life? Is there no spell
In the strong wind to tame thee? Thou hast yet
To learn harsh lessons from the changeful hours,
And bow thy stately head submissively
Unto a heavy touch; for here, bright shape!
Thy resting-place is not.
Rose, what dost thou here?
 Bridal, royal Rose!
How, 'midst grief and fear,
 Canst thou thus disclose
Rose! too much arrayed
 For triumphal hours,
Look'st thou through the shade
 Of these mortal bowers,
As an eagle soaring
 Through a sunny sky,
As a clarion pouring
 Strains of victory,
Thoughts of rapture, flushing
 Youthful poet's cheek;
Thoughts of glory rushing
 Forth in song to break;
Yet, O festal Rose!
 I have seen thee lying
In thy bright repose,
 Pillowed with the dying,
Summer, Life, and Love,
 O'er that bed of pain,
Met in thee, yet wove
 Too, too frail a chain
Smil'st thou, gorgeous flower?
 Oh! within the spells
Of thy beauty's power,
 Something dimly dwells
All the soul, forth flowing
 With that rich perfume,
All the proud life, glowing
 In that radiant bloom,
Crown'st thou but the daughters
 Of our tearful race?
Heaven's own purest waters
 Well might wear the trace
Will that clime enfold thee
 With immortal air?
Shall we not behold thee
 Bright and deathless there,
Yes, my fancy sees thee
 In that light disclose,
And its dream thus frees thee
 From the mist of woes,
# Poems of Felicia Hemans in The Court Magazine Volume III 1833/Night-Blowing Flowers

The Court Magazine, 1833, Volume III, Pages 133-134
II.—NIGHT-BLOWING FLOWERS.
Children of night! unfolding meekly, slowly,
 To the sweet breathings of the shadowy hours,
When dark-blue heavens look softest and most holy,
 And glow-worm light is in the forest bowers;
To solemn things and deep,
To spirit-haunted sleep,
To thoughts, all purified
From earth, ye seem allied,
 O dedicated flowers!
Ye, from the crowd your vestal beauty turning,
 Keep in dim urns the precious odour shrined,
Till steps are hush'd and faithful stars are burning,
 And the moon's eye looks down, serenely kind;
So doth love's dreaming heart
Dwell from the throng apart;
And but to shades disclose
The inmost thought which glows,
 With its pure life entwined.
Shut from the sounds wherein the day rejoices,
 To no triumphant song your petals thrill;
But yield their fragrance with the faint sweet voices
 Rising from hidden founts when all is still,
So doth lone prayer arise,
Mingling with secret sighs,
When grief unfolds, like you,
Her breast, for heavenly dew
 In silent hours to fill.
# Poems of Felicia Hemans in The Court Magazine Volume IV 1834/The Fallen Lime Tree

The Court Magazine, 1834, Volume IV, Page 10
SUMMER SONGS BY MRS. HEMANS—No. V.
THE FALLEN LIME TREE.
Oh, joy of the peasant! O stately lime!
Thou art fallen in thy golden honey time.
Thou whose wavy shadows,
 Long and long ago,
Screen'd our grey forefathers
 From the noontide's glow;
Thou, beneath whose branches,
 Touch'd with moonlight gleams,
Lay our early poets
 Wrapt in fairy dreams.
A glory is gone from our home with thee.
Where shall now the weary
 Rest thro' summer eves?
Or the bee find honey,
 As on thy sweet leaves?
Where shall now the ring-dove
 Build again her nest?
She so long the inmate
 Of thy fragrant breast?
Far more than the ring-dove, far more than the bee!
These may yet find coverts,
 Leafy and profound,
Full of dewy dimness
 Odour and soft sound:
But the gentle memories
 Clinging all to thee,
When shall they be gathered
 Round another tree?
The crown of the hamlet is fallen in thee!
# Paterno v. Lyons

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.

## Concurring Opinion

    Frankfurter
United States Supreme Court
334 U.S. 314
Paterno v. Lyons
Argued: April 28, 1948. --- Decided: June 1, 1948
William H. Collins, of Washington, D.C., for petitioner.
Irving I. Waxman, of Albany, N.Y., for respondent.
Mr. Justice BLACK delivered the opinion of the Court.

## Notes

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Paterno v. Lyons/Concurrence Frankfurter

* Court Documents
* Case Syllabus
* Opinion of the Court
* Concurring Opinion Frankfurter
United States Supreme Court
334 U.S. 314
Paterno v. Lyons
Argued: April 28, 1948. --- Decided: June 1, 1948
Mr. Justice FRANKFURTER, concurring.
The New York Constitution requires that prosecution for an 'infamous crime' be upon indictment by grand jury. The New York Court of Appeals has held that this constitutional requirement does not nullify the acceptance by a trial court of a plea of guilty to the offense of attempted grand larceny, second degree, upon an indictment for knowingly receiving stolen goods. Since, so far as the United States Constitution is concerned, the States may dispense with accusations by grand juries, it is for New York and not for us to decide when the procedural requirements of New York law, not touching those fundamental safeguards which the United States Constitution protects, are satisfied. What is here challenged is New York's determination that the knowing receipt of stolen goods is sufficiently related to larceny so as to permit acceptance of a plea of guilty of the latter on the assumption that an indictment for one affords adequate notice of the other. Surely this does not rise to the dignity of a substantial federal question. In the early days of the Fourteenth Amendment, this Court deemed it appropriate to remind that that Amendment had not made this Court an appellate tribunal to supervise the administration of the criminal law of the States. It is not irrelevant to recall this admonition.
Thus, I agree with the Court's opinion, but draw from it the conclusion that the writ of certiorari should be dismissed for want of a substantial federal question.

## Notes

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Poems on Several Occasions (Broome)/To Belinda, on her Apron embroider'd with Arms and Flowers

To Belinda,
On her Apron embroider'd with Arms and Flowers.
# Poems on Several Occasions (Broome)/The Seat of War in Flanders, &c

A
POEM
On the Seat of War in
FLANDERS,
CHIEFLY
With relation to the Sieges:
With the Praise of
PEACE and RETIREMENT.
Written 1710.
THE
Seat of War in Flanders, &c.
Secessus mei non desidiæ nomen, sed tranquillitatis accipiant.
Plin.
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* ↑ Neptunus muros, magnoque emota tridenti Fundamenta quatit, &c.Virg. Æn.
* ↑ The Holy Scriptures.
# Poems on Several Occasions (Broome)/To Mrs. Eliz. M—t, on her Picture, 1716

TO
Mrs. Eliz. M———t,
On her Picture, 1716.
# Poems on Several Occasions (Broome)/To a Lady, playing with a Snake

To a LADY,
Playing with a SNAKE.
* ↑ The Scorpion.
* ↑ Olympias, Mother of Alexander the Great.
# Poems on Several Occasions (Broome)/To Mr. Pope, on his Works, 1726

To Mr. POPE,
On his Works, 1726.
* ↑ The Author translated eight Books of the Odyssey.
* ↑ See the 16th Odyssey, V. 186, and 476.
# Poems on Several Occasions (Broome)/The Story of Talus, from the fourth Book of Apollonius Rhodius. V. 1629

THE
STORY of Talus,
From the Fourth Book of Apollonius Rhodius. V. 1629.
* ↑ Argonauts.
* ↑ Minos and Rhadamanthus.
* ↑ V. 1665.
* ↑ V. 1679.
# Poems on Several Occasions (Broome)/The Widow and Virgin Sisters, being a Letter to the Widow, in London

THE
Widow and Virgin Sisters,
BEING A
Letter to the Widow, in London.
# Poems on Several Occasions (Broome)/To Belinda, on her Sickness, and Recovery

To Belinda,
On her Sickness, and Recovery.
# Poems on Several Occasions (Broome)/To Mr. A. Pope, who corrected my Verses

To Mr. A. POPE, who corrected my Verses.
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# Poetical Remains of the Late Mrs Hemans/Lines Written for the Album at Rosanna, in 1829

LINES WRITTEN FOR THE ALBUM AT ROSANNA,*IN 1829.
Oh! lightly tread through these deep chestnut-bowers,  Where a sweet spirit once in beauty mov'd! And touch with reverent hand these leaves and flowers,  Fair things, which well a gentle heart hath lov'd! A gentle heart, of love and grief th' abode, Whence the bright stream of song in tear-drops flow'd.
And bid its memory sanctify the scene!  And let th' ideal presence of the dead Float round and touch the woods with softer green,  And o'er the streams a charm, like moonlight, shed; Through the soul's depths in holy silence felt— A spell to raise, to chasten, and to melt!
# Poetical Remains of the Late Mrs Hemans/Lot of Man and Woman compared by Iphigenia

III.
LOT OF MAN AND WOMAN COMPARED BY IPHIGENIA.
Man by the battle's hour immortalized May fall, yet leave his name to living song; But of forsaken woman's countless tears, What recks the after-world? the poet's voice Tells naught of all the slow, sad, weary days And long, long nights, through which the lonely soul Poured itself forth, consumed itself away, In passionate adjurings, vain desires, And ceaseless weepings for the early lost, The loved and vanished!
# Poetical Remains of the Late Mrs Hemans/Howel's Song

HOWEL'S SONG.
Howel ab Einion Llygliw was a distinguished bard of the 14th century. A beautiful poem, addressed by him to Myfanwy Vychan, a celebrated beauty of those times, is still preserved amongst the remains of the Welsh bards. The ruins of Myfanwy's residence, Castle Dinas Brân, may yet be traced on a high hill near Llangollen.
Press on, my steed! I hear the swell* Of Valle Crucis' vesper-bell, Sweet floating from the holy dell  O'er woods and waters round.
Perchance the maid I love, e'en now, From Dinas Brân's majestic brow, Looks o'er the fairy world below,  And listens to the sound!
I feel her presence on the scene! The summer-air is more serene, The deep woods wave in richer green,  The wave more gently flows! Oh! fair as Ocean's curling foam!* Lo! with the balmy hour I come, The hour that brings the wanderer home,  The weary to repose!
Haste! on each mountain's darkening crest, The glow hath died, the shadows rest,
The twilight-star, on Deva's breast,  Gleams tremulously bright; Speed for Myfanwy's bower on high! Though scorn may wound me from her eye, Oh! better by the sun to die,  Than live in rayless night!
* ↑ *"I have rode hard, mounted on a fine high-bred steed, upon thy account, O thou with the countenance of cherry-flower bloom. The speed was with eagerness, and the strong long-ham'd steed of Alban reached the summit of the highland of Brân."
* ↑ * "My loving heart sinks with grief without thy support, O thou that hast the whiteness of the curling waves!*****I know that this pain will avail me nothing towards obtaining thy love, O thou whose countenance is bright as the flowers of the hawthorn!"— Howel's Ode to Myfanwy.
# Poetical Remains of the Late Mrs Hemans/Images of Patriarchal Life

XV.
IMAGES OP PATRIARCHAL LIFE.
Calm scenes of patriarch life!—how long a power Your unworn pastoral images retain, O'er the true heart, which in its childhood's hour Drank their pure freshness deep! The camels' train, Winding in patience o'er the desert plain,— The tent—the palm-tree—the reposing flock— The gleaming fount—the shadow of the rock— Oh! by how subtle, yet how strong a chain, And in the influence of its touch how blessed, Are these things linked, in many a thoughtful breast, To household memories, for all change endeared! —The matin bird—the ripple of a stream Beside our native porch—the hearth light's gleam— The voices, earliest by the soul revered!