OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Kneeland, Samuel

Edition of 1879. See also Samuel Kneeland (naturalist) on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
KNEELAND, Samuel, an American naturalist, born in Boston, Aug. 1, 1821. He graduated at Harvard college in 1840, and at the medical school of the same institution in 1843, and studied in Paris till 1845. Subsequently he practised medicine in Boston, taught anatomy in the Harvard school, was connected for two years with the Boston dispensary, was for five years secretary of the Boston natural history society, and for two years of the American academy of arts and sciences. He also explored Brazil, the copper region of Lake Superior, and the Hawaiian islands. From 1862 to 1866 he was surgeon in the army, first under Gen. Burnside, but for most of the time serving in New Orleans and Mobile. In August, 1866, he was appointed secretary of the Massachusetts institute of technology, and professor of zoölogy and physiology in that institution, which posts he still holds (1875). In the summer of 1874 he visited Iceland, at the time of its millennial celebration, for the purpose of studying the volcanic phenomena of that island. He edited the “Annual of Scientific Discovery” from 1866 to 1869, wrote most of the zoölogical and many medical articles in the “New American Cyclopædia” and the “American Cyclopædia,” and has contributed largely to scientific periodicals. Besides a translation of Andry's “Diseases of the Heart” and an edition of Smith's “History of the Human Species,” he has published “The Wonders of the Yosemite Valley and of California” (Boston, 1871).
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Knaus, Ludwig

Edition of 1879. See also Ludwig Knaus on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
KNAUS, Ludwig, a German painter, born at Wiesbaden, Oct. 5, 1829. He studied in Düsseldorf, and became famous in 1850 by his admirable genre pictures of humble life. He resided in Paris from 1853 to 1861, in Berlin from 1861 to 1866, and in Düsseldorf from 1866 to 1874, when he was appointed minister of art at Berlin. Besides many portraits, his works include “The Gamblers,” “Peasants' Dance,” “The Funeral,” “A Fair, with a Chief hunted by the Police,” “The Gypsies,” “The
Golden Wedding,” “After Baptism,” “The Juggler in the Barn,” and more recently “The Coffee Hour” and “Mud Pies.” Engravings of his works are especially popular among the German peasantry.
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Knapp, Ludwig Friedrich

Edition of 1879. See also Friedrich Ludwig Knapp on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
KNAPP, Ludwig Friedrich, a German chemist, born at Michelstadt, Hesse-Darmstadt, Feb. 22, 1814. He studied under Liebig, graduated at Giessen as a chemist, and at the mint in Paris as an assayer. He was professor at Giessen from 1841 till the close of 1853, and subsequently in the economical institution of Munich. In 1856 he became inspector of the royal porcelain works, and in 1863 he went to Brunswick to teach chemistry at the polytechnic school. He has published Lehrbuch der chemischen Technologie (2 vols., Brunswick, 1847; translated into English by Ronalds and Richardson, 3 vols., London, 1848-'51, and by W. R. Johnson, 2 vols., Philadelphia, 1848-'9), and translated Percy's “Metallurgy” (1862). He has made some remarkable investigations relative to tanning.
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Knapp, Samuel Lorenzo

Edition of 1879. See also Samuel Lorenzo Knapp on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
KNAPP, Samuel Lorenzo, an American author, born in Newburyport, Mass., in 1784, died in Hopkinton, Mass., July 8, 1838. He graduated at Dartmouth college in 1804, studied law, and was admitted to the bar of Massachusetts. He made his first appearance as an author in “Travels of Ali Bey” (18mo, Boston, 1818), a work purporting to give an eastern traveller's experiences of society in Boston and Cambridge. It was followed in 1821 by “Biographical Sketches of Eminent Lawyers and Statesmen and Men of Letters.” In 1828, having previously been connected as editor or contributor with several literary journals, he established himself in New York in the practice of his profession. Among his remaining works are: “Lectures on American Literature” (New York, 1829); “Sketches of Public Characters” (1830); “American Biography” (1833); “Life of Aaron Burr” (1835); “The Bachelor and other Tales” (1836); and “Female Biography of different Ages and Nations.” He was the author of a variety of occasional public addresses.
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Körner, Karl Theodor

Edition of 1879. See also Theodor Körner (author) on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
KÖRNER, Karl Theodor, a German poet, born in Dresden, Sept. 23, 1791, killed near Rosenberg, Mecklenburg, Aug. 26, 1813. His father
intended him for scientific pursuits, and sent him to the mining academy of Freiberg; but he early displayed a strong taste for poetry, inspired by Schiller, who was an intimate friend of his father, and in 1810 published his first volume of poems under the title of Knospen, or “Buds.” Having studied for a short time at the university of Leipsic, he went to Berlin, and soon after to Vienna, where he wrote his dramas Toni and Hedwig, and the tragedies Zriny and Rosamunda, and was appointed poet to the Burgtheater. During the German “war of freedom” against Napoleon Körner joined the “black huntsmen” of Lützow (March, 1813), with whom he entered Saxony. His bravery soon gave him a reputation and the rank of lieutenant. It was during this exciting life that he wrote those patriotic songs which, set to music by Weber, have since become so well known. During the night of Aug. 25, 1813, while waiting in a wood to attack a small detachment of French troops, he wrote his celebrated Schwertlied, or “Sword Song.” At 7 o'clock on the morning of the 26th Lützow attacked the French, who took refuge in the wood while Körner pursued them. Between the fires of his own men and the enemy he was mortally wounded. His corpse was crowned with oak leaves and buried beneath an old oak, near the village of Wöbbelin. Near the spot is now placed a fine monument of iron, designed by the architect Thormayer, which has become a place of great resort for visitors. A selection of his battle songs was prepared by his father and published under the title of Leier und Schwert (Berlin, 1814). His complete works were published by the direction of his mother, and edited by Streckfuss (1 vol., Berlin, 1834; 4 vols., 1838). His “ Life, written by his Father, with his Selections from his Poems, Tales, and Dramas,” translated from the German by G. F. Richardson, appeared in London in 1845.
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Knapp, Jacob

Edition of 1879. See also Jacob Knapp on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
KNAPP, Jacob, an American clergyman, born in Otsego co., N. Y., Dec. 7, 1799, died in Rockford, Ill., March 2, 1874. He entered the theological institution at Hamilton, N. Y., in 1821, and began active work as pastor of the Baptist church in Springfield, N. Y., where he also managed a farm. From there he moved to Watertown, N. Y., where also he was at the same time pastor of a church and manager of a large farm, displaying a full degree of energy and capacity in each occupation. In 1832 he experienced deeper religious impressions, which he himself was accustomed to call his second conversion; and from that time he gave up his secular employment, and undertook a wider work as an evangelist. He applied to the New York state Baptist convention for appointment as their missionary; but as they hesitated to appoint him, he began preaching as an evangelist on his own responsibility. He preached at first in school houses and obscure churches, but was soon sought by the largest churches and most distinguished pastors. In Baltimore, Boston, and New York vast
numbers attended his preaching, and such excitement prevailed that mobs threatened him and his hearers, and the protection of the civil authorities was necessary. His preaching was stern and terrible, yet cultivated and able men were moved by it, as well as the populace. Thousands believed themselves converted under his ministry. A few years before his death he visited California. In his old age he had acquired, by several judicious business investments, a comfortable competency, which he proposed shortly before his death to distribute among the benevolent societies of his church.
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Knebel, Karl Ludwig von

Edition of 1879. See also Karl Ludwig von Knebel on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
KNEBEL, Karl Ludwig von, a German author, born at Wallerstein, Bavaria, Nov. 30, 1744, died in Jena, Feb. 23, 1834. His family were Protestant refugees from the Netherlands. He became an officer in the regiment of the Prussian crown prince, and was subsequently connected with the court at Weimar, and with Goethe, whose confidence he enjoyed. He made excellent translations, especially of Alfieri's “Saul,” and wrote poetry. Varnhagen von Ense and Mundt edited his literary remains and correspondence (3 vols., Leipsic, 1835), the latter furnishing a biographical notice, and Guhrauer published Knebel's Briefwechsel mit Goethe (2 vols., 1851).
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Krummacher, Friedrich Adolf

Edition of 1879. See also Friedrich Adolf Krummacher, Gottfried Daniel Krummacher and Friedrich Wilhelm Krummacher on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
KRUMMACHER. I. Friedrich Adolf, a German theologian, born at Tecklenburg, Westphalia, July 13, 1768, died in Bremen, April 14, 1845. His first appointment was to the professorship of theology in the university of Duisburg. He next became pastor of the Reformed church at Crefeld, and afterward exchanged that cure for the rural living of Kettwich. In 1819 he
was called to Bernburg, where he became councillor of the consistory and chief pastor, and in 1824 became pastor of St. Anschaire in Bremen. He was a voluminous writer, both in prose and poetry. His principal works are: “Cornelius the Centurion,” “Life of St. John” (both translated into English, Edinburgh, 1840); “The Sufferings, Death, and Resurrection of Christ;” Die Kinderwelt, a series of sacred poems for the young; and “On the Spirit and Form of Evangelical History in its Historical and Æsthetical Relations.” He is best known, however, by his fables or Parabeln, which appeared in 1805, and passed through many editions. They have been translated into English, and added in 1858 to Bohn's “Illustrated Library,” with 40 illustrations. His life has been written by Möller (Friedrich Adolf Krummacher und seine Freunde, 2 vols., Bonn, 1849). II. Gottfried Daniel, brother of the preceding, born in Tecklenburg, April 1, 1774, died in Elberfeld, Jan. 30, 1837. He was educated at Duisburg, and afterward became a popular preacher at Bärth and Wolfrath. In 1816 he was made pastor of the Reformed church at Elberfeld, and was recognized as the head of the pietists in that district. Among his most important works are Die evangelische Heiligung (Elberfeld, 1832), and Tagliches Manna, or “Daily Manna” (1838). III. Friedrich Wilhelm, son of Friedrich Adolf, born in Duisburg in 1796, died in Potsdam, Dec. 10, 1868. He was a minister of the Reformed church, but a strenuous opponent of the rationalistic school of theologians. In 1843 he declined an invitation to a theological professorship at Mercersburg, Pa. In 1853 he was appointed chaplain of the Prussian court at Potsdam. He was regarded as one of the most eloquent preachers in Germany. Among his numerous works, most of which have been translated into English, are “Elijah the Tishbite,” “The Last Days of Elisha,” “Solomon and the Shulamite,” “Sermons on the Canticles,” and “Glimpses into the Kingdom of Grace.” In 1856 appeared in Berlin his Bunsen und Stahl. Among his later devotional works are Gottes Wort (Berlin, 1865), and David der König von Israel (1866; English translation, 1870). His sermons were collected and published in Berlin in 1868. Soon after his death his daughter edited and published his autobiography, which has been translated into English (2d ed., London, 1871).
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Knapp, Georg Christian

Edition of 1879. See also Georg Christian Knapp on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
KNAPP, Georg Christian, a German theologian, born in Halle, Sept. 17, 1753, died there, Oct. 14, 1825. He was educated in the orphan school at Halle, founded by Francke, of which his father was director, and in the universities of Halle and Göttingen. In 1777 he became extraordinary, and in 1782 ordinary professor of theology at Halle, maintaining a system of rational supernaturalism, seeking to harmonize revelation with the theoretical and the practical reason. His Vorlesungen über die Christliche Glaubenslehre has been translated into English, with additions, by Leonard Woods, jr., D.D.
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Lachmann, Karl

Edition of 1879. See also Karl Lachmann on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
LACHMANN, Karl, a German philologist and critic, born in Brunswick, March 4, 1793, died in Berlin, March 13, 1851. He was educated at Leipsic and Göttingen, and in 1811 founded in the latter city, in conjunction with Dissen, Schulze, and Bunsen, a critical and philological society. He was successively preceptor at the gymnasium and professor in the university of Königsberg, and from 1827 till his death was a professor in that of Berlin. Among his numerous publications are critical editions of Propertius, Catullus, Tibullus, Lucretius, Gaius, the Nibelungenlied, Walther von der Vogelweide, and Wolfram von Eschenbach, and Betrachtungen über die Ilias (Berlin, 1847).
# The Book of Scottish Song/"A good old Song"

"A good old Song."
[Edward Polin, Paisley.—Here first printed.]
I have wander'd afar 'neath stranger skies, And have revell'd amid their flowers, I have lived in the light of Italian eyes, And dream'd in Italian bowers, While the wond'rous strains of their sunny clime Have been trill'd to enchant mine ears, But, oh! how I longed for the song and the time When my heart could respond with its tears. Then sing me a song, a good old song, Not the foreign, the learn'd, the grand,— But a simple song, a good old song Of my own dear father-land.
I have heard, with the great, and the proud, and the gay, All, all they would have me adore, Of that music divine that, enraptur'd, they say, Can be equall'd on earth never more, And it may be their numbers indeed are divine, Though they move not my heart through mine ears, But a ballad old of the dear "langsyne" Can alone claim my tribute of tears. Then sing me a song, &c.
I have come from a far and a foreign clime To mine own loved haunts once more, With a yearning for all of my childhood's time, And the dear home-sounds of yore, And here if there yet be love for me, O! away with those stranger lays, And now let my only welcome be An old song of my boyhood days. Then sing me a song, &c.
# The Book of Repulsive Women/Suicide

Corpse A
They brought her in, a shattered small Cocoon, With a little brusèd body like A startled moon; And all the subtle symphonies of her A twilight rune.
Corpse B
They gave her hurried shoves this way And that. Her body shock-abbreviated As a city cat. She lay out listlessly like some small mug Of beer gone flat.
# The Book of Repulsive Women/Twilight of the Illicit

You, with your long blank udders And your calms, Your spotted linen and your Slack'ning arms. With satiated fingers dragging At your palms.
Your knees set far apart like Heavy spheres; With discs upon your eyes like Husks of tears; And great ghastly loops of gold Snared in your ears.
Your dying hair hand-beaten Round your head. Lips, long lengthened by wise words Unsaid. And in your living all grimaces Of the dead.
One sees you sitting in the sun Asleep; With the sweeter gifts you had And didn't keep, One grieves that the altars of Your vice lie deep.
You, the twilight powder of A fire-wet dawn; You, the massive mother of Illicit spawn; While the others shrink in virtue You have borne.
We'll see you staring in the sun A few more years, With discs upon your eyes like Hucks of tears; And great ghastly loops of gold Snared in your ears.
# The Book of Scottish Song/"It's weel it's nae waur"

"It's weel it's nae waur."
[Edward Polin, Paisley.—Here first printed.]
It's true, frien's, it's true, An' I'm wae tae confess, That our joy micht be mair, An' our grief micht be less; But we aye get a mouthfu', Though we whiles kenna whar, Sae, O! frien's, be thankfu'— "It's weel it's nae waur."
We've a' dreet the girnin' O' cauld gloomin' care, Yet o' hope's mornin' sang Ha'e we no had our share? Though the cary be dark whiles, There's aye some bit star, Tae keep us reflectin' "It's weel it's nae waur."
We've sicken'd in sorrow At parting to-day, But the meeting to-morrow Can chase it away; An' if some frien's ha'e wither'd Sin' we were afar, We ken whar their banes lie— "It's weel it's nae waur."
Our ills ha'e been mony— We've a' had our share, An nae doubt we've whiles thocht That nane could ha'e mair; But yet there are thousan's Mair wretched by far, Then, O! frien's, be thankfu'— "Its weel it's nae waur."
# The Book of Scottish Song/"I canna be fashed"

"I canna be fashed."
[Edward Polin, late of Paisley, now connected with "The Edinburgh Weekly Chronicle" Newspaper.—Here first printed.]
The deil's in the hizzies, Thae lassies o' mine!— Though there's a' things to do, Baith the rough wark an' fine; Though the breid's a' to bake, An' the claes maun be washed, There they'll sit an' they'll tell me They "canna be fashed!"
Was ever the like o't?— Sic gentle affairs! Na! the jauds are gane gyte Wi' their braws an' their airs; My certes! I think Wi' the tangs I'd been smashed, Gin I'd said to my mither, "I canna be fashed!"
But noo the bit lassocks Ha'e grown sae genteel, Wi' their books an' pianos For seams an' the wheel; Gin ye ask them to help ye, Just hear hoo your snashed— "'Deed, mither, I tell you I canna be fashed!"
An' then there's sic wailing For phrases sae fine, That they're a' liker ledies Than dochters o' mine; But suns whan at hame A' sic clavers are quashed, For Scotch-like they'll tell me They "canna be fashed."
Wi' their veils an' their earrings, An' boas—keep me! The pride o' thae lassies It's awfu' to see. Mak' them ledies indeed! Na, their chaffs should be clashed, Whan they offer to tell me They "canna be fashed!"
But bide ye awee Till the tawpies get men, An' maun e'en gang their wa's To their ain butt an' ben,— An' ha'e bairnies wha greet Till they're baith fed an' washed,
We'll see gin they'll cry then They "canna be fashed!"
# The Book of Repulsive Women/Seen From the "L"

So she stands-nude-stretching dully Two amber combs loll through her hair A vague molested carpet pitches Down the dusty length of stairs. She does not see, she does not care It's always there.
The frail mosaic on her window Facing starkly toward the street Is scribbled there by tipsy sparrows– Etched there with their rocking feet. In fashioned too, to every beat Of shirt and sheet.
Still her clothing is less risky Than her body in its prime, They are chain-stitched and so is she Ravelling grandly into vice Dropping crooked into rhyme. Slipping through the stitch of virtue, Into crime.
Though her lips are vague as fancy In her youth– They bloom vivid and repulsive As the truth. Even vases in the making Are uncouth.
We see your arms grow humid In the heat; We see your damp chemise lie Pulsing in the beat Of the over-hearts left oozing At your feet.
See you sagging down with bulging Hair to sip, The dappled damp from some vague Under lip. Your soft saliva, loosed With orgy, drip.
Once we'd not have called this Woman you—
When leaning above your mother's
Spleen you drew Your mouth across her breast as Trick musicians do.
Plunging grandly out to fall Upon your face. Naked-female-baby In grimace. With your belly bulging stately Into space.
# The Book of Repulsive Women/To a Cabaret Dancer

A thousand lights had smitten her Into this thing; Life had taken her and given her One place to sing.
She came with laughter wide and calm; And splendid grace; And looked between the lights and wine For one fine face.
And found life only passion wide, Twixt mounth and wine. She ceased to search, and growing wise Became less fine.
Yet some wondrous thing within the mess Was held in check:– Was missing as she groped and clung About his neck.
One master chord we couldn't sound For lost the keys, Yet she hinted of it as she sang Between or knees.
We watched her come with subtle fire And learnet feet, Stumbling among the lustful drunk Yet somehow sweet.
We say the crimson leave her cheeks
Flame in her eyes;
For when a woman lives in awful haste
A woman dies.
The jests that lit our hours by night
And made them gay, Soiled a sweet and ignorant soul
And foulded its play.
Barriers and heart both broken-dust
Beneath her feet. You're passed her forty times and sneered
Out in the street.
A thousand jibes had driven her To this at last; Till the ruined crimson of her lips Grew vague and vast.
Until her songless soul admits
Time comes to kill; You pay her price and wonder why You need her still.
# The Book of Repulsive Women/In Particular

What loin-cloth, what rag of worng Unpriced? What turn of body, what of lust Undiced? So we've worshipped you a little More than Christ.
# The Book of Scottish Song

THE
BOOK OF SCOTTISH SONG;
COLLECTED AND ILLUSTRATED
WITH
HISTORICAL AND CRITICAL NOTICES.
By ALEX. WHITELAW.
BLACKIE AND SON,
QUEEN STREET, GLASGOW; SOUTH COLLEGE STREET, EDINBURGH:
WARWICK SQUARE, LONDON.
MDCCCXLIII.
GLASGOW: W. G. BLACKIE AND CO. PRINTERS.
AULD SCOTIA'S SANGS.
[Written for this Work by John Imlah.]
Auld Scotia's Sangs! Auld Scotia's Sangs!—the strains o' youth and yore!— O lilt to me, and I will list—will list them o'er and o'er; Though mak' me wae, or mak' me wud,—or changefu' as a child, Yet lilt to me, and I will list—the "native wood notes wild!"
They mak' me present wi' the past—they bring up, fresh and fair, The Bonnie Broom o' Cowden Knowes, the Bush abune Traquair, The Dowie Dens o' Yarrow, or the Birks o' Invermay, Or Catrine's green and yellow Woods in autumn's dwining day!
They bring me back the holms and howes whar siller burnies shine, The Lea-rig whar the gowans glint we pu'd in Auld Lang Syne; And, mair than a', the Trystin' Thorn that blossom'd down the vale, Whar gloamin' breathed sae sweetly—but far sweeter luve's fond tale!
Now melt we o'er the lay that wails for Flodden's day o' dule,— And now some rant will gar us loup like daffin' youth at Yule;— Now o'er young luve's impassion'd strain our conscious heart will yearn,— And now our blude fires at the call o' Bruce o' Bannockburn!
O! lovely in the licht o' sang the Ettrick and the Tweed, Whar shepherd swains were wont to blaw auld Scotia's lyric reed;— The Logan and the Lugar, too, but, hallow'd meikle mair, The Banks and Braes o' bonnie Doun,—the Afton and the Ayr!
The hind whase hands are on the pleugh—the shepherd wi' his crook— The maiden o'er the milkin' pail, or by the ingle neuk, Lo'e weel to croon auld Scotia's sangs—O may they ever sae! And it may be a daffin' lilt—may be a dowie lay!
Though warldly grief and warldling's guile maun I like ithers dree, Maun thole the sair saigh rive my breist—the het tear scald my e'e! But let me list the melodies o' some o' Scotia's sangs, And I will a' forget my waes—will a' forgie my wrangs!
O! born o' feeling's warmest depths—o' fancy's wildest dreams, They're twined wi' monie lovely thochts, wi' monie lo'esome themes; They gar the glass o' memorie glint back wi' brichter shine On far aff scenes, and far aff friends—and Auld Lang Syne!
Auld Scotia's Sangs!—Auld Scotia's Sangs!—her "native wood notes wild!" Her monie artless melodies, that move me like a child; Sing on—sing on! and I will list—will list them o'er and o'er,— Auld Scotia's Sangs!—Auld Scotia's Sangs!—the sangs o' youth and yore!
Song sweetens toil, however rude the sound: All at her work the village maiden sings: Nor, while she turns the giddy wheel around, Revolves the sad vicissitude of things.
GIFFARD.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
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