OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 23 1828/The Lyre's Complaint

The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 23, Page 241
THE LYRE'S COMPLAINT.
"A large lyre hung in an opening of the rock, and gave its melancholy music to the wind. But no human being was to be seen."—Salathiel.
A deep-toned lyre hung murmuring
 To the wild wind of the sea;—
"O melancholy wind," it sigh'd,
 "What would thy breath with me?
"Thou canst not wake the spirit
 That in me slumbering lies;
Thou strik'st not forth th' electric fire
 Of buried melodies.
"Wind of the lone dark waters!
 Thou dost but sweep my strings
Into wild gusts of mournfulness
 With the rushing of thy wings.
"But the gift, the spell, the lightning,
 Within my frame conceal'd—
Must I moulder on the rock away,
 With their triumphs unreveal'd?
"I have power, high power, for Freedom
 To wake the burning soul;
I have sounds that through the ancient hills
 Like a torrent's voice might roll:
"I have pealing notes of Victory,
 That might welcome kings from war;
I have rich deep tones to send the wail
 For a Hero's death afar:
"I have chords to lift the Pæan
 From the Temple to the sky,
Full as the forest-unisons,
 When sweeping winds are high.
"And Love—for Love's lone sorrow
 I have music that might swell
Through the summer-air with the rose's breath,
 Or the violet's faint farewell.
"Soft—spiritual—mournful—
 Sighs in each note enshrined;—
But who shall call that sweetness forth?
 Thou canst not, Ocean-wind!
"No kindling heart gives echoes
 To the passion of my strain;
I perish with my wasted gifts,
 Vain is that dower—all vain!
"I pass without my glory,
 Forgotten I decay—
Where is the touch to give me life?
—Wild fitful wind, away!"
So sigh'd the broken music,
 That in gladness had no part;—
— How like art thou, neglected lyre!
 To many a human heart!F. H.
# Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 25 1829/The Ruined House

The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 25, Pages 526-527
THE RUINED HOUSE.BY FELICIA HEMANS.
"Oh! 'tis the heart that magnifies this life,
Making a truth and beauty of its own."—Wordsworth.
"Birth has gladdened it; Death has sanctified it."—Guesses at Truth.
No dower of storied song is thine,
 O desolate abode!
Forth from thy gates no glittering line
 Of lance and spear hath flow'd:
Banners of Knighthood have not flung
 Proud drapery o'er thy walls,
Nor bugle-notes to battle rung
 Through thy resounding halls.
Nor have rich bowers of Pleasaunce here
 By courtly hands been dress'd,
For princes, from the chase of deer,
 Under green leaves to rest:
Only some rose, yet lingering bright
 Beside thy casements lone,
Tells where the Spirit of Delight
 Hath dwelt, and now is gone.
Yet minstrel-tale of harp and sword,
 And sovereign Beauty's lot,
House of quench'd light and silent board!
 For me thou needest not.
It is enough to know that here,
 Where thoughtfully I stand,
Sorrow and Love, and Hope and Fear,
 Have link'd one kindred band.
Thou bindest me with mighty spells!
 —A solemnizing breath,
A presence all around thee dwells
 Of human life and death.
I need but pluck yon garden-flower
 From where the wild weeds rise,
To wake, with strange and sudden power,
 A thousand sympathies!
Thou hast heard many sounds, thou hearth,
 Deserted now by all!
Voices at eve here met in mirth,
 Which eve may ne'er recall.
Youth's buoyant step, and Woman's tone,
 And Childhood's laughing glee,
And song, and prayer, have well been known,
 Hearth of the Dead! to thee.
Thou hast heard blessings fondly pour'd
 Upon the infant-head,
As if in every fervent word
 The living soul were shed:
Thou hast seen partings—such as bear
 The bloom from Life away—
Alas! for Love in changeful air,
 Where nought beloved can stay!
Here, by the restless bed of Pain,
 The vigil hath been kept,
Till sunrise, bright with Hope in vain,
 Burst forth on eyes that wept:
Here hath been felt the hush, the gloom,
 The breathless influence shed
Through the dim dwelling, from the room
 Wherein reposed the dead.
The seat left void, the missing face,
 Have here been mark'd and mourn'd;
And Time hath fill'd the vacant place,
 And Gladness hath return'd:
Till from the narrowing household chain
 The links dropp'd, one by one;
And homeward hither o'er the main
 Came the Spring-birds alone.
Is there not cause then—cause for thought,
 Fix'd eye, and lingering tread,
Where, with their thousand mysteries fraught,
 Ev'n lowliest hearts have bled?
Where, in its ever-haunting thirst
 For draughts of purer day,
Man's soul, with fitful strength, hath burst
 The clouds that wrapt its way?
Holy to human nature seems
 The long-forsaken spot!
To deep affections, tender dreams,
 Hopes of a brighter lot!
Therefore in silent reverence here,
 Hearth of the Dead! I stand,
Where Joy and Sorrow, Smile and Tear,
 Have link'd one kindred band.
# Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 25 1829/Thekla at her Lover's Grave

The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 25, Page 76
THEKLA AT HER LOVER'S GRAVE.*
———"Thither where he lies buried!
That single spot is the whole world to me."
Coleridge's Wallenstein.
Thy voice was in my soul!—it call'd me on—
 O, my lost Friend! thy voice was in my soul.
From the cold faded world, whence thou art gone
 To hear no more life's troubled billows roll,
I come, I come!
Now speak to me again!—we lov'd so well—
 We lov'd!—oh! still, I know that still we love!
I have left all things with thy dust to dwell,
 Through these dim aisles in dreams of Thee to rove.
This is my Home!
Speak to me in the thrilling Minster's gloom!
 Speak!—Thou hast died and sent me no farewell!
I will not shrink:—oh! mighty is the Tomb,
 But one thing mightier, which it cannot quell—
This woman's heart!
This lone, full, fragile heart!—the strong alone
 In Love and Grief—of both the burning shrine!
Thou, my Soul's friend! with Grief hast surely done,
 But with the Love which made thy spirit mine,
Say, couldst Thou part?
I hear the rustling banners; and I hear
 The wind's low singing through the fretted stone;
I hear not Thee—and yet I feel thee near—
 What is this bound that keeps thee from thine own?
Breathe it away!
I wait thee—I adjure thee!—hast Thou known
 How I have lov'd thee!—couldst Thou dream it all?
Am I not here, with Night and Death alone,
 And fearing not?—and hath my Spirit's call
O'er Thine no sway?
Thou canst not come—or thus I should not weep!
 Thy Love is deathless—but no longer free!
Soon would its wing triumphantly o'ersweep
 The viewless barrier, if such power might be;
Soon, soon, and fast!
But I shall come to thee—to thee, dear Friend!
 Our young affection hath not flow'd in vain;
In one bright stream the sever'd waves shall blend,
 The worn heart break its bonds—and Death and Pain
Be with the Past!
F. H.
# Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 26 1829/The Nightingale's Death Song

The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 26, Page 224
THE NIGHTINGALE'S DEATH SONG.—BY MRS. HEMANS.
"Willst du Nach den Nachtigallen fragen,
 Die mit seelenvoller melodie
Dich entzückten in des Lenzes Tagen? —Nur so lang sie liebten, waren sie."—Schiller.
Mournfully, sing mournfully,
 And die away, my heart!
The rose, the glorious rose is gone,
 And I too will depart.
The skies have lost their splendour,
 The waters changed their tone,
And wherefore, in the faded world,
 Should music linger on?
Where is the golden sunshine,
 And where the flower-cup's glow?
And where the joy of the dancing leaves,
 And the fountain's laughing flow?
A voice in every whisper
 Of the wave, the bough, the air,
Comes asking for the beautiful,
 And moaning—"Where, oh! where?"
Tell of the brightness parted,
 Thou Bee, thou Lamb at play!
Thou Lark in thy victorious mirth!  —Are ye, too, pass'd away?
Mournfully, sing mournfully!
 The royal Rose is gone:
Melt from the woods, my spirit melt,
 In one deep farewell tone!
—Not so!—swell forth triumphantly
 The full, rich, fervent strain!
Hence with young Love and Life I go,
 In the Summer's joyous train.
With sunshine, with sweet odour,
 With every precious thing,
Upon the last warm southern breeze,
 My soul its flight shall wing.
Alone I shall not linger
 When the days of hope are past,
To watch the fall of leaf by leaf,
 To wait the rushing blast.
Triumphantly, triumphantly,
 Sing to the woods, I go!
For me perchance in other lands
 The glorious rose may blow.
The sky's transparent azure,
 And the greensward's violet breath,
And the dance of light leaves in the wind,
 May these know nought of Death.
No more, no more sing mournfully!
 Swell high, then break, my heart!
With Love, the Spirit of the Woods,
 With Summer I depart!
# Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 34 1832

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
Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 34 1832
Compiled By Peter J. Bolton
* To a Flower brought from the Field of Grutli
# Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 35 1832

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
Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 35 1832
Compiled By Peter J. Bolton
Contents
| | Page |
| To the Blue Anemone | 207-208 |
| The Home of Love | 209-210 |
| Cathedral Hymn | 553-555 |
# Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 35 1832/To the Blue Anemone

The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 35, Pages 207-208
TO THE BLUE ANEMONE.
"And 'tis my faith that every flower
 Enjoys the air it breathes."—Wordsworth.
Flower of starry clearness bright!
Quivering urn of coloured light!
Hast thou drawn thy cup's rich dye
From th' intenseness of the sky? From a long, long fervent gaze,
Through the year's first golden days,
Up that blue and silent deep
Where, like things of sculptured sleep,
Alabaster clouds repose
With the sunshine on their snows?
Thither was thy heart's love turning,
Like a censer ever burning,
Till the purple heavens in thee
Set their smile, Anemone!
Or can those warm tints be caught
Each from some quick glow of Thought? So much of bright Soul there seems
In thy bendings and thy gleams;—
So much thy sweet life resembles
That which feels, and weeps, and trembles;
While thy being I behold
To each loving breath unfold;
Or, like woman's willowy form,
Shrink before the gathering storm;
I could deem thee spirit-filled,
As a reed by music thrilled!
I could ask a Voice from thee,
Delicate Anemone!
Flower! thou seem'st not born to die,
With thy radiant purity;
But to melt in air away,
Mingling with the soft spring-day,
When the crystal heavens are still,
And faint azure veils each hill,
And the lime-leaf doth not move,
Save to songs that stir the grove;
And all earth is like one scene,
Glorified in waves serene!—
Then thy vanishing should be,
Pure and meek Anemone!
Flower! the laurel still may shed
Brightness round the victor's head;
And the rose in beauty's hair
Still its festal glory wear;
And the willow-leaves droop o'er
Brows, which love sustains no more:
But, by living rays refined,
Thou, the trembler of the wind,
Thou, the spiritual flower,
Sentient of each breeze and shower,
Thou, rejoicing in the skies,
And transpierced with all their dyes,
Breathing vase, with light o'erflowing,
Gem-like, to thy centre glowing,
Thou the poet's type shall be,
Flower of scent, Anemone!
F. H.
# Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 38 1833/The Rising of the Dead

The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 38, Page 16
THE RISING OF THE DEAD.
BY MRS. HEMANS.
He that was dead, rose up and spoke—he spoke—
 Was it of that majestic world unknown?
Those words, that first the bier's dread silence broke,
 Came they with revelation in each tone?
Were the far cities of the nations gone,
 The solemn halls of consciousness or sleep,
For Man uncurtained by that spirit lone,
 Brought from their portal back across the deep?
——Be hush'd, my soul! the veil of darkness lay
Still drawn:—thy Lord recalled the voice departed,
To spread His truth, to comfort His faint-hearted,
Not to unfold the mysteries of its way.
——Oh! take that lesson home in silent faith—
Put on submissive strength to meet, not question Death!
# Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 34 1832/To a Flower brought from the Field of Grutli

TO A FLOWER BROUGHT FROM THE FIELD OF GRUTLI.*
If, by the wood-fire's blaze,
 When Winter-stars gleam cold,
The glorious tales of older days
 May proudly yet be told;
Forget not then the shepherd-race.
Who made the hearth a holy place!Swiss Song.
Whence art thou, flower?—from holy ground
 Where freedom's foot hath been!
Yet bugle-blast or trumpet-sound
 Ne'er shook that solemn scene.
Flower of a noble field!—thy birth
 Was not where spears have cross'd,
And shiver'd helms have strewn the earth
 Midst banners won and lost:
But, where the sunny hues and showers
 Unto thy cup were given,
There met high hearts at midnight hours,
 Pure hands were rais'd to heaven.
And vows were pledg'd, that man should roam,
 Through every Alpine dell,
Free as the wind, the torrent's foam,  The shaft of William Tell!
And prayer—the full deep flow of prayer,
 Hallow'd the pastoral sod,
And souls grew strong for battle there,
 Nerv'd with the peace of God.
Before the Alps and stars they knelt,
 That calm, devoted band;
And rose, and made their spirits felt,
 Through all the mountain land.
Then welcome Grütli 's free-bom flower!
 Even in thy pale decay,
There dwells a breath, a tone, a power,
 Which all high thoughts obey.F. H.
# Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 32 1831/The Prayer in the Wilderness

The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 32, Page 107
THE PRAYER IN THE WILDERNESS.*
Soul of our souls! and safeguard of the world!
Sustain—Thou only canst—the sick at heart;
Restore their languid spirits, and recall
Their lost affections unto Thee and Thine!—Wordsworth.
In the deep wilderness, unseen, she pray'd,
The daughter of Jerusalem:—alone,
With all the still, small whispers of the night,
And with the searching glances of the stars,
And with her God, alone! She lifted up
Her sad, sweet voice, while trembling o'er her head
The dark leaves thrill'd with prayer—the tearful prayer,
Of woman's quenchless, yet repentant love.
"Father of spirits, hear!
Look on the inmost soul, to Thee reveal'd;
 Look on the fountain of the burning tear,
Before Thy sight, in solitude unseal'd!
 "Hear, Father! hear and aid!
If I have loved too well, if I have shed,
In my vain fondness, o'er a mortal head
 Gifts, on Thy shrine, my God, more fitly laid:
 "If I have sought to live
But in one light, and made a mortal eye
The lonely star of my idolatry,
 —Thou, that art Love! oh, pity and forgive!
 "Chasten'd and school'd at last,
No more, no more my struggling spirit burns,
But fix'd on Thee, from that vain worship turns!  —What have I said?—the deep dream is not past!
 "Yet hear!—if still I love,
Oh! still too fondly—if, for ever seen,
An earthly image comes, my soul between .  And Thy calm glory, Father! throned above:
 "If still a voice is near,
(Even while I strive these wanderings to control,) An earthly voice, disquieting my soul,
 With its deep music, too intensely dear:
 "O Father, draw to Thee
My lost affections back!—the dreaming eyes
Clear from their mist—sustain the heart that dies;
 Give the worn soul once more its pinions free!
 "I must love on, O God!
This bosom must love on!—but let Thy breath
Touch and make pure the flame that knows not death,
 Bearing it up to Heaven, Love's own abode!"
Ages and ages past, the Wilderness,
With its dark cedars; and the thrilling Night,
With her pale stars; and the mysterious winds,
Fraught with all sound, were conscious of those prayers.
—How many such hath woman's bursting heart
Since then in silence and in darkness breath'd,
Like a dim night-flower's odour, up to God!F. H.
# Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 38 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
Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 38 1833
Compiled By Peter J. Bolton
Contents
| | Page |
| Repose of the Holy Family | 16 |
| The Rising of the Dead | 16 |
# Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 38 1833/Repose of the Holy Family

The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 38, Page 16
REPOSE OF THE HOLY FAMILY.
A SONNET.BY MRS. HEMANS.
Under a palm tree, by the green old Nile,
 Lulled on his mother's breast the young child lies,
With dove-like breathings, and a tender smile
 Brooding above the slumber of his eyes:
And through the silence of the burning skies,
 Lo! the dread works of Egypt's buried kings,
Temple and pyramid, beyond him rise,
 Regal and still, as everlasting things.
Vain pomps! from Him, with that pure flowery cheek,
 Soft shadowed by his mother's bending head,
A new-born spirit, mighty and yet meek,
 Through the whole world like vernal air shall spread
And bid all earthly grandeurs cast the crown
Before the suffering and the lowly down.
# Gore v. United States

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

## Dissenting Opinions

    Warren
    Douglas
    Brennan
United States Supreme Court
357 U.S. 386
Gore v. United States
Argued: May 19, 1958. --- Decided: June 30, 1958
See 79 S.Ct. 13.
Messrs. Joseph L. Rauh, Jr. and James H. Heller, Washington, D.C., for petitioner.
Miss Beatrice Rosenberg, Washington, D.C., for respondent.
Mr. Justice FRANKFURTER 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
# Gordon v. Washington

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
295 U.S. 30
Gordon v. Washington
Argued: March 7, 1935. --- Decided: April 1, 1935
Messrs. Joseph K. Willing and William A. Schnader, both of Philadelphia, Pa., for petitioners.
Mr. David Bortin, of Philadelphia, Pa., for respondents.
Mr. Justice STONE 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
# Gore v. United States/Dissent Warren

* Court Documents
* Case Syllabus
* Opinion of the Court
* Dissenting Opinions Warren Douglas Brennan
United States Supreme Court
357 U.S. 386
Gore v. United States
Argued: May 19, 1958. --- Decided: June 30, 1958
Mr. Chief Justice WARREN, dissenting.
The problem of multiple punishment is a vexing and recurring one. It arises in one of two broad contexts: (a) a statute or a portion thereof proscribes designated conduct, and the question is whether the defendant's conduct constitutes more than one violation of this proscription. Thus, murdering two people simultaneously might well warrant two punishments but stealing two one-dollar bills might not. (b) Two statutes or two portions of a single statute proscribe certain conduct, and the question is whether the defendant can be punished twice because his conduct violates both proscriptions. Thus, selling liquor on a Sunday might warrant two punishments for violating a prohibition law and a blue law, but feloniously entering a bank and robbing a bank, though violative of two statutes, might warrant but a single punishment.
In every instance the problem is to ascertain what the legislature intended. Often the inquiry produces few if any enlightening results. Normally these are not problems that receive explicit legislative consideration. But this fact should not lead the judiciary, charged with the obligation of construing these statutes, to settle such questions by the easy application of stereotyped formulae. It is at the same time too easy and too arbitrary to apply a presumption for or against multiple punishment in all cases or even to do so one way in one class of cases and the other way in another. Placing a case in the category of unit-of-offense problems or the category of overlapping-statute problems may point up the issue, but it does not resolve it.
Where the legislature has failed to make its intention manifest, courts should proceed cautiously, remaining sensitive to the interests of defendant and society alike. All relevant criteria must be considered and the most useful aid will often be common sense. In this case I am persuaded, on the basis of the origins of the three statutes involved, the text and background of recent amendments to these statutes, the scale of punishments prescribed for second and third offenders, and the evident legislative purpose to achieve uniformity in sentences, that the present purpose of these statutes is to make sure that a prosecutor has three avenues by which to prosecute one who traffics in narcotics, and not to authorize three cumulative punishments for the defendant who consummates a single sale.

## 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
# Gordon v. Warder

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
150 U.S. 47
Gordon v. Warder
Esek Cowen and F. P. Fish, for appellants.
R. H. Parkinson and Edmund Wetmore, for appellees.
Mr. Justice SHIRAS 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