OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Two Moods

* information about this edition.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
Ah, blame him not because he’s gay!  That he should smile, and jest, and play  But shows how lightly he can bear,  How well forget that load which, where  Thought is, is with it, and howe’er  Dissembled, or indeed forgot,  Still is a load, and ceases not.  This aged earth that each new spring  Comes forth so young, so ravishing  In summer robes for all to see,  Of flower, and leaf, and bloomy tree,  For all her scarlet, gold, and green,  Fails not to keep within unseen  That inner purpose and that force  Which on the untiring orbit’s course  Around the sun, amidst the spheres  Still bears her thro’ the eternal years.  Ah, blame the flowers and fruits of May,  And then blame him because he’s gay.
 Ah, blame him not, for not being gay,  Because an hundred times a day  He doth not currently repay  Sweet words with ready words as sweet,  And for each smile a smile repeat.  To mute submissiveness confined,  Blame not, if once or twice the mind  Its pent-up indignation wreak  In scowling brow and flushing cheek,  And smiles curled back as soon as born,  To dire significance of scorn.  Nor blame if once, and once again  He wring the hearts of milder men,  If slights, the worse if undesigned,  Should seem unbrotherly, unkind;  For though tree wave, and blossom blow  Above, earth hides a fire below;  Her seas the starry laws obey,  And she from her own ordered way,  Swerves not, because it dims the day  Or changes verdure to decay.  Ah, blame the great world on its way,  And then blame him for not being gay.
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
# Two Mock Epics

* related portals: Humour.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
* TWO MOCK EPICS
* Hanuman by SVATOPLUK CZECH (translated from the 17th edition)
* and Tantum Religio or, SIR BLASIUS
* by W. W. STRICKLAND, B.A. (Trin : Coll : Camb.)
* LONDON ROBERT FORDER, 28 STONECUTTER STREET, E.C. 1894
* all rights reserved
* Preface
* Hanuman
* Tantum Religio, or Sir Blasius
# Two Noble Kinsmen (Oxford 1908)

* information about this edition.
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, Commons category, quotes, Wikidata item.
The Two Noble Kinsmen is a Jacobean comedy, first published in 1634 and attributed to John Fletcher and William Shakespeare. Formerly a point of controversy, the dual attribution is now generally accepted by the scholarly consensus. It is a romantic tragicomedy based on Chaucer's "The Knight's Tale", with the addition of a subplot paralleling the main action.
    Warning: template has been deprecated.
This edition was edited by C. F. Tucker Brooke for the Oxford Shakespeare series. It appeared in the volume Shakespeare's Apocrypha.
| THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN: Presented at the Blackfriers by the Kings Maiesties servants, with great applause: Written by the memorable Worthies of their time; Mr. John Fletcher, Gent., and Mr. William Shakspeare, Gent. Printed at London by Tho. Cotes, for John Waterson: and are to be sold at the signe of the Crowne in Pauls Church-yard. 1634. | (The Persons represented in the Play. Hymen, Theseus, Hippolita, Bride to Theseus Emelia, Sister to Theseus [Emelia's Woman], Nymphs, Three Queens, Three valiant Knights, Palamon, and Arcite, The two Noble Kinsmen, in love with fair Emelia [Valerius], Perithous, [A Herald], [A Gentleman], [A Messenger], [A Servant], [Wooer], [Keeper], Jaylor, His Daughter, in love with Palamon [His brother], [A Doctor], [4] Countreymen, [2 Friends of the Jaylor], [3 Knights], [Nel, and other] Wenches, A Taborer, Gerrold, A Schoolmaster.) |
| Prologue   Act 1 Act 2 Act 3 Act 4 Act 5 Scene 1 Scene 2 Scene 3 Scene 4 Scene 5 Scene 1 Scene 2 Scene 3 Scene 4 Scene 5 Scene 6 Scene 1 Scene 2 Scene 3 Scene 4 Scene 5 Scene 6 Scene 1 Scene 2 Scene 3 Scene 1 Scene 2 Scene 3 Scene 4   Epilogue ||
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
# Two Noble Kinsmen

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Two Noble Kinsmen."
* 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 Two Noble Kinsmen, play by William Shakespeare and John Fletcher (1635)
* "The Two Noble Kinsmen," a retelling by Abby Sage Richardson in Stories from Old English Poetry (1871)
# Trees and Other Poems/St. Alexis

ST. ALEXIS
Patron of Beggars
WE who beg for bread as we daily tread Country lane and city street, Let us kneel and pray on the broad highway To the saint with the vagrant feet. Our altar light is a buttercup bright, And our shrine is a bank of sod, But still we share St. Alexis' care, The Vagabond of God.
They gave him a home in purple Rome And a princess for his bride, But he rowed away on his wedding day Down the Tiber's rushing tide. And he came to land on the Asian strand Where the heathen people dwell; As a beggar he strayed and he preached and prayed And he saved their souls from hell.
​Bowed with years and pain he came back again To his father's dwelling place. There was none to see who this tramp might be, For they knew not his bearded face. But his father said, "Give him drink and bread And a couch underneath the stair." So Alexis crept to his hole and slept. But he might not linger there.
For when night came down on the seven-hilled town, And the emperor hurried in, Saying, "Lo, I hear that a saint is near Who will cleanse us of our sin," Then they looked in vain where the saint had lain, For his soul had fled afar, From his fleshly home he had gone to roam Where the gold-paved highways are.
We who beg for bread as we daily tread Country lane and city street, Let us kneel and pray on the broad highway To the saint with the vagrant feet. ​Our altar light is a buttercup bright, And our shrine is a bank of sod, But still we share St. Alexis' care, The Vagabond of God!
# Trees and Other Poems/The Apartment House

THE APARTMENT HOUSE
SEVERE against the pleasant arc of sky The great stone box is cruelly displayed. The street becomes more dreary from its shade, And vagrant breezes touch its walls and die. Here sullen convicts in their chains might lie, Or slaves toil dumbly at some dreary trade. How worse than folly is their labor made Who cleft the rocks that this might rise on high!
Yet, as I look, I see a woman's face Gleam from a window far above the street. This is a house of homes, a sacred place, By human passion made divinely sweet. How all the building thrills with sudden grace Beneath the magic of Love's golden feet!
# Trees and Other Poems/The Fourth Shepherd

THE FOURTH SHEPHERD
(For Thomas Walsh)
I
ON nights like this the huddled sheep Are like white clouds upon the grass, And merry herdsmen guard their sleep And chat and watch the big stars pass.
It is a pleasant thing to lie Upon the meadow on the hill With kindly fellowship near by Of sheep and men of gentle will.
I lean upon my broken crook And dream of sheep and grass and men— O shameful eyes that cannot look On any honest thing again!
On bloody feet I clambered down And fled the wages of my sin, I am the leavings of the town, And meanly serve its meanest inn.
​I tramp the courtyard stones in grief, While sleep takes man and beast to her. And every cloud is calling "Thief!" And every star calls "Murderer!"
II
The hand of God is sure and strong, Nor shall a man forever flee The bitter punishment of wrong. The wrath of God is over me!
With ashen bread and wine of tears Shall I be solaced in my pain. I wear through black and endless years Upon my brow the mark of Cain.
III
Poor vagabond, so old and mild, Will they not keep him for a night? And She, a woman great with child, So frail and pitiful and white.
Good people, since the tavern door Is shut to you, come here instead. See, I have cleansed my stable floor And piled fresh hay to make a bed.
Here is some milk and oaten cake. Lie down and sleep and rest you fair, Nor fear, O simple folk, to take The bounty of a child of care.
IV
On nights like this the huddled sheep— I never saw a night so fair. How huge the sky is, and how deep! And how the planets flash and glare!
At dawn beside my drowsy flock What wingéd music I have heard! But now the clouds with singing rock As if the sky were turning bird.
O blinding Light, O blinding Light! Burn through my heart with sweetest pain. O flaming Song, most loudly bright, Consume away my deadly stain!
V
The stable glows against the sky, And who are these that throng the way? My three old comrades hasten by And shining angels kneel and pray.
The door swings wide—I cannot go— I must and yet I dare not see. Lord, who am I that I should know— Lord, God, be merciful to me!
VI
O Whiteness, whiter than the fleece Of new-washed sheep on April sod! O Breath of Life, O Prince of Peace, O Lamb of God, O Lamb of God!
# Trees and Other Poems/St. Laurence

ST. LAURENCE
WITHIN the broken Vatican The murdered Pope is lying dead. The soldiers of Valerian Their evil hands are wet and red.
Unarmed, unmoved, St. Laurence waits, His cassock is his only mail. The troops of Hell have burst the gates, But Christ is Lord, He shall prevail.
They have encompassed him with steel, They spit upon his gentle face, He smiles and bleeds, nor will reveal The Church's hidden treasure-place.
Ah, faithful steward, worthy knight, Well hast thou done. Behold thy fee! Since thou hast fought the goodly fight A martyr's death is fixed for thee.
​St. Laurence, pray for us to bear The faith which glorifies thy name. St. Laurence, pray for us to share The wounds of Love's consuming flame.
# Trees and Other Poems/The House with Nobody in It

THE HOUSE WITH NOBODY IN IT
WHENEVER I walk to Suffern along the Erie track I go by a poor old farmhouse with its shingles broken and black. I suppose I've passed it a hundred times, but I always stop for a minute And look at the house, the tragic house, the house with nobody in it.
I never have seen a haunted house, but I hear there are such things; That they hold the talk of spirits, their mirth and sorrowings. I know this house isn't haunted, and I wish it were, I do; For it wouldn't be so lonely if it had a ghost or two.
This house on the road to Suffern needs a dozen panes of glass, And somebody ought to weed the walk and take a scythe to the grass. ​It needs new paint and shingles, and the vines should be trimmed and tied; But what it needs the most of all is some people living inside.
If I had a lot of money and all my debts were paid I'd put a gang of men to work with brush and saw and spade. I'd buy that place and fix it up the way it used to be And I'd find some people who wanted a home and give it to them free.
Now, a new house standing empty, with staring window and door, Looks idle, perhaps, and foolish, like a hat on its block in the store. But there's nothing mournful about it; it cannot be sad and lone For the lack of something within it that it has never known.
​But a house that has done what a house should do, a house that has sheltered life, That has put its loving wooden arms around a man and his wife, A house that has echoed a baby's laugh and held up his stumbling feet, Is the saddest sight, when it's left alone, that ever your eyes could meet.
So whenever I go to Suffern along the Erie track I never go by the empty house without stopping and looking back, Yet it hurts me to look at the crumbling roof and the shutters fallen apart, For I can't help thinking the poor old house is a house with a broken heart.
# Trees and Other Poems/The Rosary

THE ROSARY
NOT on the lute, nor harp of many strings Shall all men praise the Master of all song. Our life is brief, one saith, and art is long; And skilled must be the laureates of kings. Silent, O lips that utter foolish things! Rest, awkward fingers striking all notes wrong! How from your toil shall issue, white and strong, Music like that God's chosen poet sings?
There is one harp that any hand can play, And from its strings what harmonies arise! There is one song that any mouth can say,— A song that lingers when all singing dies. When on their beads our Mother's children pray Immortal music charms the grateful skies.
# Trees and Other Poems/The Twelve-Forty-Five

THE TWELVE-FORTY-FIVE
(For Edward J. Wheeler)
WITHIN the Jersey City shed The engine coughs and shakes its head. The smoke, a plume of red and white, Waves madly in the face of night. And now the grave incurious stars Gleam on the groaning hurrying cars. Against the kind and awful reign Of darkness, this our angry train, A noisy little rebel, pouts Its brief defiance, flames and shouts— And passes on, and leaves no trace. For darkness holds its ancient place, Serene and absolute, the king Unchanged, of every living thing. The houses lie obscure and still In Rutherford and Carlton Hill. Our lamps intensify the dark Of slumbering Passaic Park. And quiet holds the weary feet ​That daily tramp through Prospect Street. What though we clang and clank and roar Through all Passaic's streets? No door Will open, not an eye will see Who this loud vagabond may be. Upon my crimson cushioned seat, In manufactured light and heat, I feel unnatural and mean. Outside the towns are cool and clean; Curtained awhile from sound and sight They take God's gracious gift of night. The stars are watchful over them. On Clifton as on Bethlehem The angels, leaning down the sky, Shed peace and gentle dreams. And I— I ride, I blasphemously ride Through all the silent countryside. The engine's shriek, the headlight s glare, Pollute the still nocturnal air. The cottages of Lake View sigh And sleeping, frown as we pass by. Why, even strident Paterson Rests quietly as any nun. ​Her foolish warring children keep The grateful armistice of sleep. For what tremendous errand's sake Are we so blatantly awake? What precious secret is our freight? What king must be abroad so late? Perhaps Death roams the hills to-night And we rush forth to give him fight. Or else, perhaps, we speed his way To some remote unthinking prey. Perhaps a woman writhes in pain And listens—listens for the train! The train, that like an angel sings, The train, with healing on its wings. Now "Hawthorne!" the conductor cries. My neighbor starts and rubs his eyes. He hurries yawning through the car And steps out where the houses are. This is the reason of our quest! Not wantonly we break the rest Of town and village, nor do we Lightly profane night's sanctity. What Love commands the train fulfills, ​And beautiful upon the hills Are these our feet of burnished steel. Subtly and certainly I feel That Glen Rock welcomes us to her And silent Ridgewood seems to stir And smile, because she knows the train Has brought her children back again. We carry people home—and so God speeds us, wheresoe'er we go. Hohokus, Waldwick, Allendale Lift sleepy heads to give us hail. In Ramsey, Mahwah, Suffern stand Houses that wistfully demand A father—son—some human thing That this, the midnight train, may bring. The trains that travel in the day They hurry folks to work or play. The midnight train is slow and old But of it let this thing be told, To its high honor be it said It carries people home to bed. My cottage lamp shines white and clear. God bless the train that brought me here.
# Trees and Other Poems/Poets

POETS
VAIN is the chiming of forgotten bells That the wind sways above a ruined shrine. Vainer his voice in whom no longer dwells Hunger that craves immortal Bread and Wine.
Light songs we breathe that perish with our breath Out of our lips that have not kissed the rod. They shall not live who have not tasted death. They only sing who are struck dumb by God.
# Trees and Other Poems/Servant Girl and Grocer's Boy

SERVANT GIRL AND GROCER'S BOY
HER lips' remark was: "Oh, you kid!" Her soul spoke thus (I know it did):
"O king of realms of endless joy, My own, my golden grocer's boy,
I am a princess forced to dwell Within a lonely kitchen cell,
While you go dashing through the land With loveliness on every hand.
Your whistle strikes my eager ears Like music of the choiring spheres.
The mighty earth grows faint and reels Beneath your thundering wagon wheels.
How keenly, perilously sweet To cling upon that swaying seat!
​How happy she who by your side May share the splendors of that ride!
Ah, if you will not take my hand And bear me off across the land,
Then, traveller from Arcady, Remain awhile and comfort me.
What other maiden can you find So young and delicate and kind?"
Her lips' remark was: "Oh, you kid!" Her soul spoke thus (I know it did).
# Trees and Other Poems/Stars

STARS
(For the Rev. James J. Daly, S. J.)
BRIGHT stars, yellow stars, flashing through the air, Are you errant strands of Lady Mary's hair? As she slits the cloudy veil and bends down through, Do you fall across her cheeks and over heaven too?
Gay stars, little stars, you are little eyes, Eyes of baby angels playing in the skies. Now and then a winged child turns his merry face Down toward the spinning world—what a funny place!
Jesus Christ came from the Cross (Christ receive my soul!) In each perfect hand and foot there was a bloody hole. ​Four great iron spikes there were, red and never dry, Michael plucked them from the Cross and set them in the sky.
Christ's Troop, Mary's Guard, God's own men, Draw your swords and strike at Hell and strike again. Every steel-born spark that flies where God's battles are, Flashes past the face of God, and is a star.
# The World as Will and Representation

Second Edition published 1844.
THE
ENGLISH AND FOREIGN
PHILOSOPHICAL LIBRARY.
THE
WORLD AS WILL AND IDEA.
BY
ARTHUR SCHOPENHAUER.
VOLUME I.
FOUR BOOKS.
THE
WORLD AS WILL AND IDEA.
BY
ARTHUR SCHOPENHAUER.
TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY
R. B. HALDANE, M.A. AND J. KEMP, M.A.
VOL. I.
CONTAINING FOUR BOOKS.
"Ob nicht Natur zuletzt sich doch ergründe?"—Goethe.
SEVENTH EDITION.
LONDON KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRÜBNER & CO. L$^{td}$ BROADWAY HOUSE, 68–74 CARTER LANE, E.C.
The rights of translation and of reproduction are reserved
Printed in Great Britain by Ballantyne, Hanson & Co. at the Ballantyne Press, Edinburgh
CONTENTS.
FIRST BOOK.
SECOND BOOK.
THIRD BOOK.
FOURTH BOOK.
page
* Translators' Preface
* Preface to the First Edition
* Preface to the Second Edition
* Supplements to the First Book: First Half
* Supplements to the First Book: Second Half
* Supplements to the Second Book
* Supplements to the Second Book
* Supplements to the Third Book
* Fourth Book: The World as Will Second Aspect
* Supplements to the Fourth Book
* Appendix of Volume I
* Appendix
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
# The Years (Teasdale)

* Teasdale, Sara (1915), "The Years" in Rivers to the Sea.
* Teasdale, Sara (1917), "The Years" in Love Songs.
# The Yellow Book/Volume 1/A Book Plate A

A Book Plate for
       J. L. Propert, Esq.
             By Aubrey Beardsley
​Reproduced by Messrs. Carl Hentschel & Co.
# The Yellow Book/Volume 1/A Lady Reading

​A Lady Reading
By Walter Sickert
Reproduced by Messrs. Carl Hentschel & Co.
# The Yellow Book/Volume 1/A Book Plate B

A Book Plate for
       Major-General Gosset
             By R. Anning Bell
​Reproduced by Messrs. Carl Hentschel & Co.
# The works of William Blake, poetic, symbolic and critical/2

FROM A CAST OF BLAKE'S HEAD,
Made when he was about fifty years old,
by Deville the phrenologist.
THE WORKS
OF
WILLIAM BLAKE
Poetic, Symbolic, and Critical
EDITED WITH LITHOGRAPHS OF THE ILLUSTRATED
"PROPHETIC BOOKS," AND A MEMOIR
AND INTERPRETATION
BY
EDWIN JOHN ELLIS
Author of "Fate in Arcadia" &c.
AND
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS
Author of "The Wanderings of Oisin" "The Counter Kathleen," &.
"Bring me to the test
And I the matter will re-word, which madness
Would gambol from "
Hamlet
IN THREE VOLS.
VOL. II
LONDON
BERNARD QUARITCH, 15 PICCADILLY
1893
[All Rights Reserved]
INTERPRETATION
AND
PARAPHRASED COMMENTARY.
VOL. II.
# The works of William Blake, poetic, symbolic and critical/2/Contents

CONTENTS OF VOL. II.
____________
Frontispiece : — From a Cast of Blake's Head, made when he was about fifty years old, by Deville the Phrenologist.
| Interpretation and Paraphrased Commentary : — | page |
| The Symbolic Structure of the Mystical Writings. . . | 3 |
| Chart of the Symbolic Structure of the Poems . . facing | 8 |
| Songs of Innocence and Experience. . . . | 9 |
| Minor Poems. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | 18 |
| The Mental Traveller. . . . . . . . . . . . | 32 |
| Broken Love. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | 37 |
| The Everlasting Gospel . . . . . . . . . . | 42 |
| The Marriage of Heaven and Hell. . . . . | 61 |
| A Song of Liberty . . . . . . . . . . . . | 74 |
| The Ghost of Abel . . . . . . . . . . . . . | 79 |
| Tiriel . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | 81 |
| The Book of Thel . . . . . . . . . . . . . | 92 |
| Visions of the Daughters of Albion . . . . | 95 |
| Book of Los . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | 114 |
| The First Book of Urizen . . . . . . . . . | 120 |
| Ahania . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | 139 |
| Song of Los . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . | 145 |
| America . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | 152 |
| Europe . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | 165 |
| Jerusalem . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | 176 |
| Milton . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | 260 |
| Vala . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | 295 |
| | page |
| Blake the Artist . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | 303 |
| His Critical Opinions . . . . . . . . . . . | 308 |
| Marginal Notes to the Discourses of Sir Joshua Reynolds . . . . . . . | 318 |
| Our Illustrations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | 345 |
| Subjects of Blake's Designs . . . . . . . | 350 |
| A Descriptive Catalogue op Pictures, Poetical and Historical Inventions, painted by William Blake . . | 362 |
| "Public Address" . . . . . . . . | 381 |
| Chaucer's Canterbury Pilgrims . . . . . | 383 |
| For the Year 1810. Addition to Blake's Catalogue of Pictures, &c. . . . . | 393 |
| Some References : — | |
| Urizen in "Vala" . . . . . . . . . . . . | 408 |
| Urizen in "Jerusalem" . . . . . . . . . | 409 |
| Urizen in "Milton" . . . . . . . . . . . | 409 |
| Urizen in " The Song of Liberty " . . . . . | 410 |
| Urizen in "America" . . . . . . . . | 410 |
| Urizen in "Europe" . . . . . . . . . . | 410 |
| Luvah in "Vala" . . . . . . . . . . | 411 |
| Luvah in "Jerusalem" . . . . . . . . . | 414 |
| Luvah in "Milton" . . . . . . . . . . . | 417 |
| Tharmas in "Vala" . . . . . . . . . . . | 417 |
| Tharmas in "Jerusalem" . . . . . . . . . | 421 |
| Tharmas in "Milton" . . . . . . . . . . | 421 |
| Urthona and Los in "Vala" . . . . . . . | 421 |
| Urthona and Los in "Jerusalem" . . . . | 426 |
| Urthona and Los in "Milton" . . . . . . . | 433 |