OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# A Dictionary of Music and Musicians/Goodban, Thomas

From volume 1 of the work.
​GOODBAN, Thomas, was born at Canterbury about 1780 [App. p.651 "Dec. 1784"]. His mother was a vocalist, and his father combined the three qualifications of violinist, lay vicar of the cathedral, and host of the Prince of Orange tavern, where in 1779 he founded the Canterbury Catch Club. At seven years old Goodban became a chorister of the cathedral under Samuel Porter. After leaving the choir he was placed in a solicitor's office, but on his father's death, about 1798, changed the legal profession for that of music. In 1809 he was appointed a lay clerk in the cathedral, and in 1810, on the retirement of his cousin, Osmond Saffrey, was made leader and director of the Catch Club. In 1819 the members of the club presented him with a silver bowl and salver as a token of esteem.
[ W. H. H. ]
# A Dictionary of Music and Musicians/Goodgroome, John

From volume 1 of the work.
[ W. H. H. ]
# A Dictionary of Music and Musicians/Gordigiani, Luigi

From volume 1 of the work.
[ G. ]
# A Boy's Will/Asking for Roses

From A Boy's Will, 1913.
ASKING FOR ROSES
A house that lacks, seemingly, mistress and  master,
 With doors that none but the wind ever  closes,
Its floor all littered with glass and with plaster;
 It stands in a garden of old-fashioned roses.
I pass by that way in the gloaming with Mary;
 'I wonder,' I say, 'who the owner of those  is.
'Oh, no one you know,' she answers me airy,
 'But one we must ask if we want any roses.'   So we must join hands in the dew coming  coldly
 There in the hush of the wood that reposes,
And turn and go up to the open door boldly,
 And knock to the echoes as beggars for  roses.
'Pray, are you within there, Mistress Who-  were-you?'
 'Tis Mary that speaks and our errand dis-  closes.
'Pray, are you within there? Bestir you, be  stir you!
 'Tis summer again; there's two come for  roses.
'A word with you, that of the singer recall-  ing—  Old Herrick: a saying that every maid  knows is
A flower unplucked is but left to the falling,
 And nothing is gained by not gathering  roses.'   We do not loosen our hands intertwining
 (Not caring so very much what she sup-  poses),
There when she comes on us mistily shining
 And grants us by silence the boon of her  roses.
# A Boy's Will/Flower-Gathering

From A Boy's Will, 1913.
FLOWER-GATHERING
I left you in the morning,
And in the morning glow,
You walked a way beside me
To make me sad to go.
Do you know me in the gloaming,
Gaunt and dusty grey with roaming?
Are you dumb because you know me not,
Or dumb because you know?
All for me? And not a question
For the faded flowers gay
That could take me from beside you
For the ages of a day?
They are yours, and be the measure
Of their worth for you to treasure,
The measure of the little while
That I've been long away.
# A Boy's Will/In a Vale

From A Boy's Will, 1913.
IN A VALE
* When I was young, we dwelt in a vale
* By a misty fen that rang all night,
* And thus it was the maidens pale
* I knew so well, whose garments trail
* Across the reeds to a window light.
* The fen had every kind of bloom,
* And for every kind there was a face,
* And a voice that has sounded in my room
* Across the sill from the outer gloom.
* Each came singly unto her place,
* But all came every night with the mist;
* And often they brought so much to say
* Of things of moment to which, they wist,
* One so lonely was fain to list,
* That the stars were almost faded away
* Before the last went, heavy with dew,
* Back to the place from which she came—
* Where the bird was before it flew,
* Where the flower was before it grew,
* Where bird and flower were one and the same.
* And thus it is I know so well
* Why the flower has odor, the bird has song.
* You have only to ask me, and I can tell.
* No, not vainly there did I dwell,
* Nor vainly listen all the night long.
# A Boy's Will/Into My Own

From A Boy's Will, 1913.
INTO MY OWN
One of my wishes is that those dark trees, So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze, Were not, as 'twere, the merest mask of gloom, But stretched away unto the edge of doom.
I should not be withheld but that some day Into their vastness I should steal away, Fearless of ever finding open land, Or highway where the slow wheel pours the sand.
I do not see why I should e'er turn back, Or those should not set forth upon my track To overtake me, who should miss me here And long to know if still I held them dear.
They would not find me changed from him they knew— Only more sure of all I thought was true.
# A Boy's Will/A Line-Storm Song

From A Boy's Will, 1913.
A LINE-STORM SONG
* The line-storm clouds fly tattered and swift,
* The road is forlorn all day,
* Where a myriad snowy quartz stones lift,
* And the hoof-prints vanish away.
* The roadside flowers, too wet for the bee,
* Expend their bloom in vain.
* Come over the hills and far with me,
* And be my love in the rain.
* The birds have less to say for themselves
* In the wood-world's torn despair
* Than now these numberless years the elves,
* Although they are no less there:
* All song of the woods is crushed like some
* Wild, easily shattered rose.
* Come, be my love in the wet woods; come,
* Where the boughs rain when it blows.
* There is the gale to urge behind
* And bruit our singing down,
* And the shallow waters aflutter with wind
* From which to gather your gown.
* What matter if we go clear to the west,
* And come not through dry-shod?
* For wilding brooch shall wet your breast
* The rain-fresh goldenrod.
* Oh, never this whelming east wind swells
* But it seems like the sea s return
* To the ancient lands where it left the shells
* Before the age of the fern;
* And it seems like the time when after doubt
* Our love came back amain.
* Oh, come forth into the storm and rout
* And be my love in the rain.
# A Boy's Will/A Prayer in Spring

From A Boy's Will, 1913.
A PRAYER IN SPRING
Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.
Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.
And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid air stands still.   For this is love and nothing else is love,
The which it is reserved for God above
To sanctify to what far ends He will,
But which it only needs that we fulfil.
# A Boy's Will/Ghost House

From A Boy's Will, 1913.
GHOST HOUSE
I dwell in a lonely house I know That vanished many a summer ago,
 And left no trace but the cellar walls,
 And a cellar in which the daylight falls,
And the purple-stemmed wild raspberries grow.
O'er ruined fences the grape-vines shield
The woods come back to the mowing field;
 The orchard tree has grown one copse
 Of new wood and old where the woodpecker chops;
The footpath down to the well is healed.
I dwell with a strangely aching heart
In that vanished abode there far apart
 On that disused and forgotten road
 That has no dust-bath now for the toad.
Night comes; the black bats tumble and dart;
The whippoorwill is coming to shout
And hush and cluck and flutter about :
 I hear him begin far enough away
 Full many a time to say his say
Before he arrives to say it out.   It is under the small, dim, summer star,
I know not who these mute folk are
 Who share the unlit place with me—  Those stones out under the low-limbed tree
Doubtless bear names that the mosses mar.
They are tireless folk, but slow and sad,
Though two, close-keeping, are lass and lad,—  With none among them that ever sings,
 And yet, in view of how many things,
As sweet companions as might be had.
# A Boy's Will/In Equal Sacrifice

From A Boy's Will, 1913. Removed from the 1930 edition.
IN EQUAL SACRIFICE
* Thus of old the Douglas did:
* He left his land as he was bid
* With the royal heart of Robert the Bruce
* In a golden case with a golden lid,
* To carry the same to the Holy Land;
* By which we see and understand
* That that was the place to carry a heart
* At loyalty and love's command,
* And that was the case to carry it in.
* The Douglas had not far to win
* Before he came to the land of Spain,
* Where long a holy war had been
* Against the too-victorious Moor;
* And there his courage could not endure
* Not to strike a blow for God
* Before he made his errand sure.
And ever it was intended so, That a man for God should strike a blow, No matter the heart he has in charge For the Holy Land where hearts should go.
But when in battle the foe were met, The Douglas found him sore beset, With only strength of the fighting arm For one more battle passage yet—
And that as vain to save the day As bring his body safe away— Only a signal deed to do And a last sounding word to say.
The heart he wore in a golden chain He swung and flung forth into the plain, And followed it crying 'Heart or death!' And fighting over it perished fain.
So may another do of right, Give a heart to the hopeless fight, The more of right the more he loves; So may another redouble might
For a few swift gleams of the angry brand, Scorning greatly not to demand In equal sacrifice with his The heart he bore to the Holy Land.
# A Boy's Will/Going for Water

From A Boy's Will, 1913.
GOING FOR WATER
* The well was dry beside the door,
* And so we went with pail and can
* Across the fields behind the house
* To seek the brook if still it ran;
* Not loth to have excuse to go,
* Because the autumn eve was fair
* (Though chill), because the fields were ours,
* And by the brook our woods were there.
* We ran as if to meet the moon
* That slowly dawned behind the trees,
* The barren boughs without the leaves,
* Without the birds, without the breeze.
* But once within the wood, we paused
* Like gnomes that hid us from the moon,
* Ready to run to hiding new
* With laughter when she found us soon.
* Each laid on other a staying hand
* To listen ere we dared to look,
* And in the hush we joined to make
* We heard, we knew we heard the brook.
* A note as from a single place,
* A slender tinkling fall that made
* Now drops that floated on the pool
* Like pearls, and now a silver blade.
# A Boy's Will/In Neglect

From A Boy's Will, 1913.
IN NEGLECT
They leave us so to the way we took,
 As two in whom they were proved mistaken,
That we sit sometimes in the wayside nook,
With mischievous, vagrant, seraphic look,
 And try if we cannot feel forsaken.
# A Cyclopaedia of Female Biography/Leapor, Mary

Layout 2
LEAPOR, MARY,
Was born in Northamptonshire, in 1712, her father having been many years gardener to a gentleman in that county. Her education was suitable to her humble rank, but her attainments far surpassed all expectation. Her modesty kept her merit concealed till it was too late for her to reap any temporal emoluments from her writings. She died in her twenty-fourth year, and, when on her death-bed, gave her father a collection of papers, containing original poems, which were afterwards published. Some of these poems are very good. She also wrote a tragedy entitled "The Unhappy Father."
# A Cyclopaedia of Female Biography/Leiva, Maria Virginia di

Layout 2
LEIVA, MARIA VIRGINIA DI.
Horace remarks, in an often-quoted sally, that many heroes worthy of renown have existed, acted, and been forgotten, because there was no bard to cast his sacred light around their deeds. The interest awakened by the poet, is indeed universal and far-spreading. Who, for instance, does not feel more alive to the identity of Agamemnon—the very king noted by Homer—or of Andromache, or of Helen, than to the well-authenticated existence of many an actual prince or pretty woman, who, wanting the bard, is made known to us merely by chronological tablets? It is that sort of interest, inspired by being the subject of the pen of genius, that renders the Signora Di Leiva worthy a place in these sketches. Manzoni, in the best romance Italy has ever produced—we may say, one of the best romances to be found in any language—has given importance to the memory of an otherwise obscure gentlewoman. Those versed in Italian literature, need not be reminded of the interesting and strongly depicted account of the lady of Monza; but little is to be added to the episode of the "Promessi Sposi."
It must be stated, that the circumstances detailed in that work did not really happen at Monza, but in some obscure bourg, whose name cannot now be ascertained; the real name of the lady was Maria Virginia di Leiva. Her father, Antonio di Leiva, from an unjust ambition to endow his son with an excessive wealth, immured this unfortunate daughter in a convent, where she was forced to take the veil, without the smallest vocation or sentiment of religion. To recompense her for this sacrifice, uncommon privileges were extended to her; she was accountable to nobody for her time or actions, and this led to her ruin. A young nobleman, of dissolute ​habits and abandoned life, found means to attract her attention from a neighbouring house—to gain her affections, and to seduce her. Thus far Manzoni:—but the work called the Monaca di Monza, by Rossini, which affects to give a detailed and continued life of this lady, is entirely incorrect and without real foundation. The true end of her history is, that the scandalous life she led, was brought by report to the ears of the Cardinal Borromeo, who quietly withdrew her from the scene of her errors, placed her in another monastery, under strict overseeing, and in fine, by tenderness and spiritual exhortations, awakened her torpid conscience, instructed her in religious truths, and brought about a sincere repentance. She became as eminent for the saintly piety of her latter days, as she had been offensive from her early licentiousness. Her seducer, after a series of fearful crimes, among which murder was to be reckoned, came to an untimely and violent death.
# A Cyclopaedia of Female Biography/Lee, Anne

Layout 2
LEE, ANNE,
Was born at Manchester, in 1736. She was the daughter of a blacksmith, and at an early age she became the wife of one of the same trade. She is distinguished as the person who introduced Shakerism into America, and she became the leader of the sect. Her first "testimony of salvation and eternal life," borne in 1770, was the injunction of celibacy as the perfection of human nature; and next, she claimed to be a divine person. From this time she was honoured with the title of "Mother Anne," while she styled herself "Anne the Word." Having been persecuted in England, she went to America, in 1774, with several members of the society, and formed the first community of Shakers, at Watervliet, near Albany, where she died, in 1784.
# A Cyclopaedia of Female Biography/Leela

Layout 2
LEELA,
Of Granada, a Moorish-Spaniard, who was celebrated for her learning. She died in the early part of the thirteenth century.
# A Cyclopaedia of Female Biography/Leah

Layout 2
LEAH,
Eldest daughter of Laban the Syrian, who deceived Jacob into an intercourse, then termed marriage, with this unsought, unloved woman. She became mother of six sons, named as heads of six of the tribes of Israel. Among these was Levi, whose posterity inherited the priesthood, and Judah, the law-giver, from whom descended "Shiloh," or the Messiah. These were great privileges; yet dearly did Leah pay the penalty of her high estate, obtained by selfish artifice, in which modesty, truth, and sisterly affection, were all violated. Jacob, her husband, "hated her," and she knew it; knew, too, his heart was wholly given to his other wife—her beautiful, virtuous sister; what earthly punishment could have been so intensely grievous to Leah? As her name implies, "tender-eyed," she was probably affectionate, but unprincipled and of a weak mind, or she would never have taken the place of her sister, whom she knew Jacob had served seven years to gain. Leah loved her husband devotedly; but though she was submissive and tender, and bore him many sons, a great claim on his favour, yet he never appeared to have felt for her either esteem or affection.
Jacob had sought to unite himself with Rachel in the holy union of one man with one woman, which only is true marriage; but the artifice of Laban and the passion of Leah desecrated this union, and, by introducing polygamy into the family of the chosen Founder of the house of Israel, opened the way for the worst of evils to that nation, the voluptuousness and idolatry which finally destroyed it. A treacherous sister, a forward woman, an unloved wife, Leah has left a name unhonoured and unsung. She was married about B.C. 1763.
# A Cyclopaedia of Female Biography/Lee, Sophia

Layout 2
LEE, SOPHIA.
This amiable and ingenious lady was born in London, in the year 1760. Her father, originally bred to the law, was an actor of merit, whose conduct gained him admission into the best circles, and who gave his children an excellent education. At an early age, the subject of this article exercised her pen in composition, and in 1780 produced the diverting comedy entitled the "Chapter of Accidents," which met with considerable success. With the profits of this play, on the death of her father, which took place the following year, she was enabled to open a school at Bath, which, aided by her sisters, she conducted for several years with great reputation. Her next performance, published in 1784, was the well-known novel entitled "The Recess, or a Tale of Other Times," the story of which is founded on the fate of two supposed daughters of Mary Queen of Scots, by a secret marriage with the Duke of Norfolk. It is ingeniously and pathetically wrought up, but some severe casuists have condemned the unfair liberty which it takes with some historical characters. This romance, which became very popular, was followed in 1787 by a ballad called "A Hermit's Tale, found in his Cell," In 1796, Miss Lee produced a tragedy called "Almeyda, Queen of Granada;" but although aided by the great talents of Mrs. Siddons, it did not ​realise the expectations which her power of moving the passions in the "Recess" had created. In the succeeding year, Miss Harriet Lee published the first five volumes of her "Canterbury Tales," three stories in which were from the pen of her sister, and of these, one called "Krutzmar" was selected for the subject of a tragedy by Lord Byron. In 1803, having secured a handsome competence, she retired . from teaching; soon after which appeared her "Life of a Lover," a novel written early in life. In 1807, a comedy by Miss Lee, termed the "Assignation," was unsuccessfully produced at Drury Lane, which drama terminated her literary career. She died at Clifton, near Bristol, March 13th., 1824.
# A Cyclopaedia of Female Biography/Legge, Elizabeth

Layout 2
LEGGE, ELIZABETH,
Eldest daughter of Edward Legge, an ancestor of the Earl of Dartmouth, was born in 1580. She was particularly noted for her faculty of acquiring languages, having studied thoroughly the Latin, French, Spanish, and Irish tongues, besides cultivating her poetical genius. Unfortunately, these acquisitions soon proved nearly useless, as she lost her sight, indeed became totally blind, in consequence of severe study and midnight readings. She was never married, lived chiefly in Ireland, and died at the great age of 105.
# A Cyclopaedia of Female Biography/Adams, Abigail

* related authors: Abigail Adams.
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, quotes, Wikidata item.
Layout 2
ADAMS, ABIGAIL,
Wife of John Adams, second President of the United States, was daughter of the Rev. William Smith, minister of a Congregational church at Weymouth, Massachusetts, and of Elizabeth Quincy. She was born November 11th. 1744, and, in October 1764, married John Adams, then a lawyer, residing at Weymouth. Mr. Adams was appointed minister plenipotentiary to the court of Great Britain, and, in 1784, Mrs. Adams sailed from Boston to join him. She returned in 1788, having passed one year in France and three in England. On her husband's being appointed Vice-President, in 1789, she went to reside at Philadelphia, then the seat of government, with him; as she also did when he was chosen President, in 1797. After Mr. Adams' defeat, in 1800, they retired to Quincy, where Mrs. Adams died, October 28th., 1818. Her letters to her son, John Quincy Adams, were very much admired. She was a woman of time greatness and elevation of mind, and, whether in public or private life, she always preserved the same dignified and tranquil demeanor. As the mistress of a household, she united the prudence of a rigid economist with the generous spirit of a liberal hospitality; faithful and affectionate in her friendships, bountiful to the poor, kind and courteous to her dependents, cheerful and charitable in the intercourse of social life with her neighbours and acquaintances; she lived in the habitual practice of benevolence, and sincere unaffected piety. In her family relations, few women have left a pattern more worthy of imitation by her sex. Her letters have been collected, and, with a Biographical Sketch by her grandson, Charles F. Adams, were published some years since.
Many women fill important stations with the most splendid display of virtues; but few are equally great in retirement; there they want the animating influence of a thousand eyes, and the inspiration of homage and flattery. This is human nature in its common form; and though female nature is often beautifully displayed in retirement, yet to change high station for a quiet home is a trial few women would have borne with such sweet serenity as did Mrs. Adams. She was, in retirement at Quincy, the same dignified, sensible, and happy woman, as when at the capitol, surrounded by fashion, wit, and intellect. This serenity arose from a settled and perfect, but philosophical and Christian contentment, which great minds only can feel. Such purity and elevation of soul preserve the faculties of the mind, and keep them vigorous even in old age. Thus lived this genuine daughter of America, leaving at her peaceful death a rich legacy of the loftiest virtues, made manifest by her example, as the inheritance of the women of her beloved country.