OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Poetical Works of the Right Hon. George Granville, Lord Lansdowne/4

TO THE IMMORTAL MEMORY OF MR. EDMUND WALLER, UPON HIS DEATH.
Alike partaking of celeſtial fire, Poets and heroes to renown aſpire, Till, crown’d with honour and immortal name, By wit or valour led to equal fame, They mingle with the gods who breath’d the noble flame.5 To high exploits the praiſes that belong Live but as nouriſh’d by the poet’s ſong. A tree of life is ſacred poetry; Sweet is the fruit, and tempting to the eye: Many there arc who nibble without leave,10 But none who are not born to taſte ſurvive. Waller ſhall never die, of life ſecure As long as Fame or aged Time endure: Waller! the Muſe’s darling, free to taſte Os all their ſtores, the maſter of the feaſt;15
Not like old Adam, ſtinted in his choice, But lord of all the ſpacious paradiſe. Thoſe foes to virtue, fortune, and mankind, Fav’ring his fame, once to do juſtice join’d; No carping critic interrupts his praiſe,20 No rival ſtrives but for a ſecond place; No want conſtrain’d (the writer’s uſual fate) A poet with a plentiful eſtate; The firſt of mortals who before the tomb Struck that pernicious monſter, Envy, dumb;25 Malice and Pride, thoſe ſavages, diſarm’d; Not Orpheus with ſuch pow’rful magic charm’d. Scarce in the grave can we allow him more Than, living, we agreed to give before. His noble Muſe employ’d her gen’rous rage30 In crowning virtue, ſcorning to engage The vice and follies of an impious age. No Satyr lurks within this hallow’d ground, But nymphs and heroines, kings and gods, abound: Glory, and arms, and love, is all the ſound.35 His Eden with no ſerpent is defil’d, But all is gay, delicious all, and mild. Miſtaken men his Muſe of flatt’ry blame, Adorning twice an impious tyrant’s name. We raiſe our own by giving fame to foes:40 The valour that he prais’d he did oppose. Nor were his thoughts to poetry confin’d, The ſtate and buſ’neſs ſhar’d his ample mind:
As all the fair were captives to his wit, So ſenates to his wiſdom would ſubmit.45 His voice ſo ſoft, his eloquence ſo ſtrong, Like Cato’s was his ſpeech, like Ovid’s was his ſong. Our Britiſh kings are rais’d above the hearſe, Immortal made in his immortal verſe; No more are Mars and Jove poetic themes,50 But the celeſtial Charles and juſt James: Juno and Pallas, all the ſhining race Of heav’nly beauties, to the Queen give place: Clear like her brow, and graceful, was his ſong, Great like her mind, and like her virtue ſtrong.55 Parent of gods! who doſt to gods remove, Where art thou plac’d, and which thy ſeat above? Waller the god of Verſe we will proclaim; Not Phœbus now, but Waller, be his name: Os joyful bards the ſweet ſeraphic quire60 Acknowledge thee their oracle and fire; The ſpheres do homage, and the Muſes ſing Waller the god of Verſe who was the king.63
# The Poetical Works of the Right Hon. George Granville, Lord Lansdowne/40

HER NAME.
Gueſs, and I ’ll frankly own her name, Whoſe eyes have kindled ſuch a flame; The Spartan or the Cyprian queen Had ne’er been ſung had ſhe been ſeen: Who ſet the very gods at war5 Were but faint images of her. Believe me, for by Heav’ns ’t is true! The ſun in all his ample view
Sees nothing half ſo fair or bright, Not ev’n his own reflected light.10 So ſweet a face! ſuch graceful mien! Who can this be?—’T is Howard—or Ballenden.12
# The Poetical Works of the Right Hon. George Granville, Lord Lansdowne/42

CHLOE PERFUMING HERSELF.
Believe me, Chloe, thoſe perfumes that coſt Such ſums to ſweeten thee is treasure loſt: Not all Arabia would ſufficient be; Thou ſmell’ſt not of thy ſweets, they ſtink of thee.4
# The Poetical Works of the Right Hon. George Granville, Lord Lansdowne/47

FORTUNE. EPIGRAM.
When Fortune ſeems to ſmile, ’t is then I fear Some lurking ill, and hidden miſchief near: Us’d to her frowns, I ſtand upon my guard,3 And, arm’d in virtue, keep my ſoul prepar’d. Fickle and falſe to others ſhe may be, I can complain but of her conſtancy.6
# The Poetical Works of the Right Hon. George Granville, Lord Lansdowne/41

CUPID DISARMED. TO THE PRINCESS D’AUVERGNE.
Cupid, delighting to be near her, Charm’d to behold her, charm’d to hear her, As he ſtood gazing on her face, Enchanted with each matchleſs grace, Loſt in the trance, he drops the dart,5 Which never fails to reach the heart: She ſeizes it, and arms her hand, “’T is thus I Love himſelf command: Now tremble, cruel Boy!” ſhe ſaid, “For all the miſchief you have made.”10 The god, recov’ring his ſurpriſe, Truſts to his wings, away he flies; Swift as an arrow cuts the wind, And leaves his whole artillery behind. Princeſs! reſtore the boy his uſeleſs darts,15 With ſurer charms you captivate our hearts. Love’s captives oft their liberty regain, Death only can releaſe us from your chain.18
# The Poetical Works of the Right Hon. George Granville, Lord Lansdowne/45

URGANDA’S PROPHESY. Spoken by way of Epilogue at the firſt repreſentation of the Britiſh Enchanters.
Prophetic fury rolls within my breaſt, And as at Delphos when the foaming prieſt, Full of his god, proclaims the diſtant doom Of kings unborn, and nations yet to come, My lab’ring mind ſo ſtruggles to unfold5 On Britiſh ground a future Age of Gold; But leſt incredulous you hear—behold:
High on a throne appears the martial Queen, With grace ſublime, and with imperial mien, Surveying round her, with impartial eyes,10 Whom to protect, or whom ſhe ſhall chaſtiſe. Next to her ſide victorious Marlb’ro’ ſtands Waiting, obſervant of her dread commands: The Queen ordains, and, like Alcides, he Obeys, and executes her high decree.15 In ev’ry line of her auſpicious face Soft Mercy ſmiles, adorn’d with ev’ry grace: So angels look, and ſo, when Heav’n decrees, They ſcourge the world to piety and peace. Empreſs and Conqu’ror, hail! thee Fates ordain20 O’er all the willing world ſole arbitreſs to reign: To no one people arc thy laws confin’d, Great Britain’s Queen, but guardian of mankind; Sure hope of all who dire oppreſſion bear, For all th’ oppreſs’d become thy inſtant care.25 Nations of conqueſt proud thou tam’ſt to free, Denouncing war, preſenting liberty: The victor to the vanquiſh’d yields a prize, For in thy triumph their redemption lies: Freedom and peace for raviſh’d fame you give,30 Invade to bleſs, and conquer to relieve:
So the ſun ſcorches and revives by turns, Requiting with rich metals where he burns. Taught by this great example to be juſt, Succeeding kings ſhall well fulfil their truſt;35 Diſcord, and war, and tyranny, ſhall ceaſe, And jarring nations be compell’d to peace; Princes and ſtates, like ſubjects, ſhall agree To truſt her pow’r, ſafe in her piety.39
# The Poetical Works of the Right Hon. George Granville, Lord Lansdowne/46

ODE ON THE PRESENT CORRUPTION OF MANKIND. Inſcribed to the Lord Falkland.
I.
O Falkland! offspring of a gen’rous race, Renown’d for arms and arts in war and peace: My kinſman, and my friend! from whence this curſe Entail’d on man, ſtill to grow worſe and worſe?
II.
Each age, induſtrious to invent new crimes,5 Strives to outdo in guilt preceding times; But now we ’re ſo improv’d in all that ’s bad, We ſhall leave nothing for our ſons to add.
III.
That idol, gold, poſſeſſes ev’ry heart; To cheat, defraud, and undermine, is art:10 Virtue is folly; conſcience is a jeſt; Religion gain, or prieſtcraft at the beſt.
IV.
Friendſhip ’s a cloak to hide ſome treach’rous end; Your greateſt foe is your profeſſing friend; The ſoul reſign’d, unguarded, and ſecure,15 The wound is deepeſt, and the ſtroke most ſure.
V.
Juſtice is bought and ſold; the bench, the bar, Plead and decide, but gold ’s th’ interpreter. Pernicious metal! thrice accurs’d be he Who found thee firſt; all evils ſpring from thee.20
VI.
Sires ſell their ſons, and ſons their ſires betray; And ſenates vote, as armies fight, for pay; The wife no longer is reſtrain’d by ſhame, But has the huſband’s leave to play the game.
VII.
Diſeas’d, decrepit, from the mix’d embrace25 Succeeds, of ſpurious mould, a puny race: From ſuch defenders what can Britain hope? And where, O Liberty! is now thy prop?
VIII.
Not ſuch the men who bent the ſtubborn bow, And learnt in rugged ſports to dare a foe:30 Not ſuch the men who fill‘’d with heaps of ſlain Fam’d Agincourt and Creſſy’s bloody plain.
IX.
Haughty Britannia then, inur’d to toil, Spread far and near the terrors of her iſle;
True to herſelf, and to the public weal,35 No Gallic gold could blunt the Britiſh ſteel.
X.
Not much unlike, when thou in arms wert ſeen, Eager for glory on th’ embattled green, When Stanhope led thee thro’ the heats of Spain, To die in purple Almanara’s plain.40
XI.
The reſcu’d empire, and the Gaul ſubdu’d, In Anna’s reign, our ancient fame renew’d: What Britons could, when juſtly rous’d to war, Let Blenheim ſpeak, and witness Gibraltar.44
# The Queen of May

Like flights of singing-birds went by  The rosy hours of girlhood's day;  When in my native bowers,  Of simple buds and flowers,  They wove a crown and hailed me Queen of May!
Like airy nymphs the lasses came  Spring's offerings at my feet to lay;  The crystal from the fountains,  The green boughs from the mountains,  They brought to cheer and shade the Queen of May!
Around the May-pole on the green,  A fairy ring, they tript away! --  All merriment and pleasure,  To chords of tuneful measure,  They bounded by the happy Queen of May!
Though years have past, and time has strewn  My raven locks with flakes of gray,  Fond memory brings the hours  Of birds and blossom-showers,  When in girlhood I was crowned the Queen of May!
# The Queen of Prussia's Tomb

* The Queen of Prussia's Tomb, in The Monthly Magazine Volume 2, 1826.
* The Queen of Prussia's Tomb, in Records of Woman: with Other Poems (Records of Woman).
# The Queen Bee (Grimm/Taylor and Jardine)

* "The Queen Bee" in German Popular Stories (1823) (transcription project)
* "The Queen Bee" in Grimm's Goblins (1876)
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
# The Queen of Hearts

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "The Queen of Hearts."
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
This is a disambiguation page. It lists works that share the same title. If an article link referred you here, please consider editing it to point directly to the intended page.
* The Queen of Hearts, nursery rhyme
* The Queen of Hearts (1859), a collection of short stories by Wilkie Collins
# The Queen of Hearts (nursery rhyme)

"The Queen of Hearts" is an English poem and nursery rhyme based on the characters found on playing cards. It was first published in The European Magazine in 1782.
* "The Queen of Hearts", in "The Hive, A Collection of Scraps" in The European Magazine and London Review, Vol. 1 (1782)
* Quoted in chapter 11 of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (1865)—for versions, see Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
* "The Queen of Hearts she made some tarts" in A Book of Nursery Songs and Rhymes (1895)
* "The Tarts" in The Real Mother Goose (1916)
# The Queen Bee

* related portals: Brothers Grimm.
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, Commons category, Wikidata item.
English-language translations of Die Bienenkönigin include:
* "The Queen Bee" (1823), translated by Edgar Taylor and David Jardine, in German Popular Stories
* "The Queen Bee", translated by Lucy Crane, illustrated by Walter Crane, in Household stories from the collection of the Bros Grimm (1882)
* "The Queen Bee", translated by Margaret Raine Hunt, in Grimm's Household Tales, Volume 1 (1884)
* "The Queen Bee", translated by Alice Lucas, illustrated by Arthur Rackham, in The Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm (1909)
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
# The Poets of the Tomb

* information about this edition.
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, Wikidata item.
The world has had enough of bards who wish that they were dead,
'Tis time the people passed a law to knock 'em on the head,
For 'twould be lovely if their friends could grant the rest they crave —
Those bards of `tears' and `vanished hopes', those poets of the grave.
They say that life's an awful thing, and full of care and gloom,
They talk of peace and restfulness connected with the tomb.
They say that man is made of dirt, and die, of course, he must;
But, all the same, a man is made of pretty solid dust.
There is a thing that they forget, so let it here be writ,
That some are made of common mud, and some are made of GRIT;
Some try to help the world along while others fret and fume
And wish that they were slumbering in the silence of the tomb.
'Twixt mother's arms and coffin-gear a man has work to do!
And if he does his very best he mostly worries through,
And while there is a wrong to right, and while the world goes round,
An honest man alive is worth a million underground.
And yet, as long as sheoaks sigh and wattle-blossoms bloom,
The world shall hear the drivel of the poets of the tomb.
And though the graveyard poets long to vanish from the scene,
I notice that they mostly wish their resting-place kept green.
Now, were I rotting underground, I do not think I'd care
If wombats rooted on the mound or if the cows camped there;
And should I have some feelings left when I have gone before,
I think a ton of solid stone would hurt my feelings more.
Such wormy songs of mouldy joys can give me no delight;
I'll take my chances with the world, I'd rather live and fight.
Though Fortune laughs along my track, or wears her blackest frown,
I'll try to do the world some good before I tumble down.
Let's fight for things that ought to be, and try to make 'em boom;
We cannot help mankind when we are ashes in the tomb.
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
# The Point of View (James)

* "The Point of View" in The Century Magazine 25 (2) (December 1882): 248–268.
    — First publication in any form.
* "The Point of View" in The Siege of London, The Pension Beaurepas, and The Point of View (Boston: James R. Osgood & Co., 1883): 221–294.
    — First American book edition.
* "The Point of View" in An International Episode, The Pension Beaurepas, The Point of View (London: Macmillan & Co., 1883): 159–214.
    — First English book edition; volume 12 of the "Collective Edition of 1883".
* "The Point of View" in The Siege of London, The Point of View, A Passionate Pilgrim (Leipzig: Tauchnitz, 1884): 199–294.
    — First Continental book edition; uses the text of the first American book edition.
* "The Point of View" in The Novels and Tales of Henry James 14: 537–607.
    — The "New York Edition".
* "The Point of View" in Lady Barbarina, The Siege of London; An International Episode, and Other Tales: 477–538.
    — Volume 19 of The Novels and Stories of Henry James, the first posthumous collection of James' works; uses the "New York Edition" text.
# The Point of Honor

THE POINT OF HONOR
BY
A MILITARY TALE
BY
JOSEPH CONRAD
ILLUSTRATIONS BY DAN SAYRE GROESBECK
NEW YORK
THE MCCLURE COMPANY
MCMVIII
Copyright, 1908, by The McClure Company
Copyright, 1907, 1908, by Joseph Conrad

## Contents

* Chapter 1
* Chapter 2
* Chapter 3
* Chapter 4
             LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"You will fight no more duels now" Frontispiece
"Bowing before a sylph-like form reclining on a couch"
"The angry clash of arms filled that prim garden"
"You take the nearest brute, Colonel D'Hubert"
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1924, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 99 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Queen's Court Manuscript with Other Ancient Bohemian Poems/The Cuckoo

THE CUCKOO.
Upon the plain an oak-tree stands, A cuckoo there doth sing, And still she mourns and still complains, That ’tis not always Spring.
How in the fields could ripen corn, If Spring were evermoe? How apples on the orchard-trees, Were Summer ne’er to go?
Or how the ears in garners freeze, Were nought but Autumn known? How woeful were it for the maid, If always left alone!
# The Queen's Court Manuscript with Other Ancient Bohemian Poems/Notes

NOTES.
Note A.
It is remarkable, that in the Russian poëm, Igor’s Campaign, we find Boïan, the Orpheus of the Russians, mentioned much as Lumir is here. The beginning of Igor’s campaign runs as follows.
“Would it not be better, brethren, to begin in ancient style the woeful recital of the expedition of Igor, son of Sviatoslaw. Let the poem begin after the history of that time, and not after the manner of Boïan. Did Boïan the bard intend to frame a song of any one, his thoughts strayed in the wood, a grizzled wolf on the plain, a grey eagle beneath the firmament. Did he think upon a battle of ancient times, he sent forth ten falcons against a troop of swans, and the first, who made a capture, entoned also the first song, whether of the ancient Jaroslaw, the brave Mistislaw, who hewed down Rededia before the Kasosk bands, or the beautiful Roman, descendant of Sviatoslaw. Though Boïan, brethren, loosed not ten falcons against a flock of swans; his prophetic fingers touched the living strings, which of themselves celebrated the glory of the princes.”
Note B.
The word mlat, which I have sometimes translated war-axe , sometimes axe, and sometimes mace, would be properly rendered war-hammer. Everybody has heard of the exploits of Thor and his hammer in the Edda.
Note C.
The Kmets were possessors of landed estates, a kind of franklins, who had the right of seats in the sniem or parliament. The term includes both the Lechs and Vladykas.
The Lechs were nobles, and the word is connected with szlechta, and the Polish szlachtic, a nobleman.
The Vladykas (from vladiti, to sway) were the representatives or heads of families or clans. In later times the term Vladyky signified the lesser nobility, as opposed to the Páni or Magnates.
THE END.
Metcalfe and Palmer, Printers, Cambridge.
# The Queen's Court Manuscript with Other Ancient Bohemian Poems/The Forsaken

THE FORSAKEN.
Alas! ye woods, ye gloomy woods! Ye woods of Miletine! In summer and in winter too, Why are ye ever green?
Right glad were I did I not weep, And my poor heart torment; But, O good people, tell to me, Who would not thus lament?
Where, where’s my father, father dear? He in the grave is low; Where, where’s my mother, mother good? O’er her the grass doth grow: Brothers and sisters none remain, My lover they away have ta’en.
# The Queen's Court Manuscript with Other Ancient Bohemian Poems/Love Song of King Vaceslaw I

The poem used to be ascribed to the Czech king Wenceslas I and so Wratislaw called his translation "Love Song of King Vaceslaw I". Later it started to be ascribed to another Czech king Wenceslas II.
LOVE SONG OF KING VACESLAW I.
After adventures stern and great Love doth to me her sweet estate Reveal and merit high. Right heartily I mourn and sigh, When thinking on the loveliness, That causes thus my mind’s distress, How brightly doth the maiden shine, Of whom myself to boast is mine.
Yet though her love be not to blame, She cruel anguish gives; And I must bear it evermore;— She asks not whom she rives. My mind doth drive me on to love, O happy, happy me! And now my highest gladness is Blest through the eyes to be. For all my joyance through the eyes Into my loving bosom flies. Love grows increasing by-and-bye In clearer, brighter sympathy, Because I gave her heart and mind. She is a fount of bliss refin’d, She the beginning is of mirth, My anguish and my joy on earth. E’en as sweet dews the rose-bud sips, When from its swathings free, E’en so I kiss’d her honied lips, O happy happy me! In vain to understand I try, How happy in thy love am I; Love banish’d is by anguish strong, Pain comforts, love doth pine and long. Love will accuse me—Ah! for why? Love cannot me accuse, that I
Embrac’d her form so fair and bright, So full of sweetness and delight, In all its glowing, glittering charms, Yet still with honourable arms. For when that maid enchain’d my heart—
* ↑ This is a fragment of one of the three poems, on account of which Wenceslaus, King of Bohemia, (crowned 1228), was numbered among the German Minnesingers. If the German poems (Manessische Sammlung, Zurich, 1748) are originals, this Bohemian one must be a translation; but the conciseness of this and the diffuseness of the others induces rather the contrary inference. Probably some German at the court of Wenceslaus translated his Bohemian poems into German. The Manuscript, containing this fragment along with “The Stag,” which appears also in the Queen’s Court Manuscript, is a single octavo leaf of parchment, and is in the Bohemian Museum.
* ↑ Love (milost, Iáska,) is feminine in Slavonic.
# The Sermons of the Curé of Ars/It is necessary to be converted

❧ IT IS NECESSARY TO BE CONVERTED
No, my dear brethren, let us never forget that in order to receive Holy Communion it is necessary to be converted and strong in a true resolution to persevere. When Jesus Christ desired to give His Adorable Body and His Precious Blood to His Apostles, in order to teach them how pure one should be before receiving It, He even went so far as to wash their feet. By that He wishes to show us that we can never be purified enough of our sins, even our venial sins. It is true that the venial sin does not make our Communions unworthy, but it is a cause of our profiting hardly at all by such a great blessing and happiness. The proof of that is very clear when you consider how many times we have received Holy Communion during the course of our lives. And have we become any better? .... No, not at all, and the real cause of that is that practically all the time we are holding onto our bad habits; we do not break ourselves of any one of them more than another. We have a horror of the big sins which kill our souls, but all those little fits of impatience, those grumblings when some worries or troubles befall us, or some disappointments or setbacks -- these mean nothing to us. You will admit that in spite of so many Confessions and Holy Communions, you are always the same, that your Confessions are nothing else, nor have they been for years, than a repetition of the same sins, which, although venial, are none the less damaging to the merit of your Holy Communions. You have been heard to say, with good reason, that you are no better one day than another, but who is stopping you from correcting your faults? .... If you are always the same, it is simply because you do not want to make even small efforts to improve yourself. You do not want to endure anything or to be opposed in anything. You would like everyone to be fond of you and to have a good opinion of you, which is a difficult enough thing. Let us try hard, my dear brethren, to destroy all that could be in the smallest way displeasing to Jesus Christ, and we shall see ho-v our Communions will help us to make great strides towards Heaven. And the more we do this, the more we shall feel ourselves becoming detached from sin and inclining towards God.... This is what I desire for you.