OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Pindar and Anacreon/Anacreon/Ode 57

ODE LVII.—THAT MODERATION ENHANCES ENJOYMENT.
Haste! haste thee, boy, and bring the bowl, To quench this fever of the soul; The copious stream with skill combine, Add ten parts water, five of wine;
The cooling draught will thirst assuage, Nor in the breast too fiercely rage. Oh cease, my friends, for shame, give o'er These clamorous shouts, this deaf'ning roar: This Scythian scene all peace destroys; Turns joy to madness, mirth to noise. Let cheerful temperance rule the soul, The best ingredient in the bowl.
* ↑ Hesiod, with all the minuteness of "narrative old age," gives many directions to be observed in the summer season. Among the rest, in book ii., he thus advises us:— "With Byblian wine the rural feast be crown'd, Three parts of water, let the bowl go round."—Cooke.
* ↑ The Scythians were particularly remarkable for their intemperance in drinking, and for quarrelling in their cups.
# Pindar and Anacreon/Anacreon/Ode 58

ODE LVIII.—LOVE IN THE HEART.
As once, amid the rosy bowers, I wove a crown of fairest flowers, Love, little urchin, lurking sly Beneath the leaves I chanced to spy; Around his wings the wreath I twine, And plunge him in a cup of wine: Then love, in each delicious draught, I from the foaming goblet quaff'd. Oh! still he moves his fluttering wings, Still to my heart strange transport brings.
# Pindar and Anacreon/Anacreon/Ode 7

ODE VII.—ON CUPID.
Cupid once, with staff in hand, (A slender hyacinthine wand,) Slow walking with a tottering pace, Defied me to the rapid race. Away we flew o'er flood and fell, O'er craggy rock and bushy dell, Till hastening on with swiftest speed, A serpent stung me; then indeed My heart forgot its wonted play; I fainted—sunk—and died away.
The urchin laughed at my disgrace, And while his pinions fann'd my face, "My friend," he cried, "you clearly prove That you are not a match for Love!"
* ↑ As commentators are by no means agreed either as to the text or meaning of this ode, I have given it the turn which I conceived most agreeable to the genius and style of the author. By a pleasing allegory, he seems to intimate, that under whatever disguise love may appear, his power is equally certain and resistless.
* ↑ It is observed by Madame Dacier that his being stung by a serpent was a punishment for his insensibility and presumption.
# Poems (Davidson)/The Holy Writings

THE HOLY WRITINGS.
Through the whole of this sacred volume may be traced the finger of a God! It is overshadowed by his arm, and his spirit walks forth in the sublimity of his commandments. What are the mad revilings of the scoffer? They are like burning coals which fall back upon the head of him who hurled them, leaving the object of his rage uninjured. What are the most philosophic works of mankind when placed in comparison with it? They sink into nothing. What are the brilliant shafts of human wit when directed against it? They are as the gilded wing of the butterfly, fluttering feebly against the nervous, the resistless pinion of an eagle. What are all the immense magazines of learning beside it, but a boundless heap of chaff? Yes; the vast edifices of human knowledge reared by the restless hand of ingenuity, and bedecked with all the gaudy trappings of eloquence, crumble into dust and fall prostrate in its presence, as did the heathen idol before the ark of the living God!
Do we ask eloquence? Where can it be found more pure than from the mouth of Him whose voice of mercy is a murmur, and whose anger speaks in wrathful thunders? Do we ask sublimity? The eagle in its flight toward heaven is less sublime than the hallowed words of its Maker. Do we ask simplicity? What is more touchingly so than the language of the sacred volume? Do we ask sweetness or tenderness? The breath of summer ​is less sweet than the Almighty's offered mercies. The fabled bird which sheds her blood for the nourishment of her innocent offspring, is cruel in comparison with Him, who bled, who died, for those who cursed and tortured Him. Do we ask grandeur, wildness, or strength? Look there! there upon the law of Him whose very self is grandeur, whose glance is lightning, and whose arm is strength.
The hand of the impious and the envious may hurl the dust of derision upon this sacred volume: still it will shine on, brighter and brighter, while time shall be!
# Poems (Davidson)/The Good Shepherd

<!- missing a page before or after this one, but it's an empty one-->
# Plain Tales from the Hills/Dedication and Preface

TO
THE WITTIEST WOMAN
IN INDIA
I DEDICATE THIS BOOK
Eight-and-twenty of these tales appeared originally in the Civil and Military Gazette. I am indebted to the kindness of the Proprietors of that paper for permission to reprint them. The remaining tales are, more or less, new.
Rudyard Kipling.
# Poems (Douglas)/Stanzas on the Marriage of Miss Helen Douglas to David Reid, Esq.

Stanzas
ON THE MARRIAGE OF MISS HELEN DOUGLAS (DAUGHTER OF HUGH DOUGLAS, ESQ., LATE OF DEMERARA), TO DAVID REID, ESQ., AYR.
# Poems (Douglas)/Stanzas on the Demise of Robert Burns, Esq., Dumfries, eldest son of Scotland's Bard

Stanzas
ON THE DEMISE OF ROBERT BURNS, ESQ., OF DUMFRIES, ELDEST SON OF SCOTLAND'S BARD.
# Poems (Jackson)/Friends

A. E. P.
# Poems (Emerson, Household Edition, 1904)/Webster

WEBSTER
1831
Let Webster's lofty face Ever on thousands shine, A beacon set that Freedom's race Might gather omens from that radiant sign.
FROM THE PHI BETA KAPPA POEM
1834
Ill fits the abstemious Muse a crown to weave For living brows; ill fits them to receive: And yet, if virtue abrogate the law, One portrait—fact or fancy—we may draw; A form which Nature cast in the heroic mould Of them who rescued liberty of old; He, when the rising storm of party roared, Brought his great forehead to the council board, There, while hot heads perplexed with fears the state, Calm as the morn the manly patriot sate; Seemed, when at last his clarion accents broke, As if the conscience of the country spoke. ​Not on its base Monadnoc surer stood, Than he to common sense and common good: No mimic; from his breast his counsel drew, Believed the eloquent was aye the true; He bridged the gulf from th' alway good and wise To that within the vision of small eyes. Self-centred; when he launched the genuine word It shook or captivated all who heard, Ran from his mouth to mountains and the sea, And burned in noble hearts proverb and prophecy.
1854
Why did all manly gifts in Webster fail? He wrote on Nature's grandest brow, For Sale.
# Poems (Emerson, Household Edition, 1904)/Written in Naples

WRITTEN IN NAPLES
We are what we are made; each following day Is the Creator of our human mould Not less than was the first; the all-wise God Gilds a few points in every several life, And as each flower upon the fresh hillside, And every colored petal of each flower, Is sketched and dyed, each with a new design, Its spot of purple, and its streak of brown, So each man's life shall have its proper lights, ​And a few joys, a few peculiar charms, For him round-in the melancholy hours And reconcile him to the common days. Not many men see beauty in the fogs Of close low pine-woods in a river town; Yet unto me not morn's magnificence, Nor the red rainbow of a summer eve, Nor Rome, nor joyful Paris, nor the halls Of rich men blazing hospitable light, Nor wit, nor eloquence,—no, nor even the song Of any woman that is now alive,— Hath such a soul, such divine influence, Such resurrection of the happy past, As is to me when I behold the morn Ope in such low moist roadside, and beneath Peep the blue violets out of the black loam, Pathetic silent poets that sing to me Thine elegy, sweet singer, sainted wife.
March, 1833.
# Poems (Emerson, Household Edition, 1904)/Waldeinsamkeit

WALDEINSAMKEIT
I do not count the hours I spend In wandering by the sea; The forest is my loyal friend, Like God it useth me.
In plains that room for shadows make Of skirting hills to lie, Bound in by streams which give and take Their colors from the sky;
Or on the mountain-crest sublime, Or down the oaken glade, O what have I to do with time? For this the day was made.
Cities of mortals woe-begone Fantastic care derides, But in the serious landscape lone Stern benefit abides.
Sheen will tarnish, honey cloy, And merry is only a mask of sad, But, sober on a fund of joy, The woods at heart are glad.
​There the great Planter plants Of fruitful worlds the grain, And with a million spells enchants The souls that walk in pain.
Still on the seeds of all he made The rose of beauty burns; Through times that wear and forms that fade, Immortal youth returns.
The black ducks mounting from the lake, The pigeon in the pines, The bittern's boom, a desert make Which no false art refines.
Down in yon watery nook, Where bearded mists divide, The gray old gods whom Chaos knew, The sires of Nature, hide.
Aloft, in secret veins of air, Blows the sweet breath of song, O, few to scale those uplands dare, Though they to all belong!
See thou bring not to field or stone The fancies found in books; Leave authors' eyes, and fetch your own, To brave the landscape's looks.
​Oblivion here thy wisdom is, Thy thrift, the sleep of cares; For a proud idleness like this Crowns all thy mean affairs.
# Poems (Emerson, Household Edition, 1904)/Wealth

WEALTH
Who shall tell what did befall, Far away in time, when once, Over the lifeless ball, Hung idle stars and suns? What god the element obeyed? Wings of what wind the lichen bore, Wafting the puny seeds of power, Which, lodged in rock, the rock abrade? And well the primal pioneer Knew the strong task to it assigned, Patient through Heaven's enormous year To build in matter home for mind. From air the creeping centuries drew The matted thicket low and wide, This must the leaves of ages strew The granite slab to clothe and hide, Ere wheat can wave its golden pride. What smiths, and in what furnace, rolled (In dizzy æons dim and mute The reeling brain can ill compute) Copper and iron, lead and gold? What oldest star the fame can save Of races perishing to pave The planet with a floor of lime? ​Dust is their pyramid and mole: Who saw what ferns and palms were pressed Under the tumbling mountain's breast, In the safe herbal of the coal? But when the quarried means were piled, All is waste and worthless, till Arrives the wise selecting will, And, out of slime and chaos, Wit Draws the threads of fair and fit. Then temples rose, and towns, and marts, The shop of toil, the hall of arts; Then flew the sail across the seas To feed the North from tropic trees; The storm-wind wove, the torrent span, Where they were bid, the rivers ran; New slaves fulfilled the poet's dream, Galvanic wire, strong-shouldered steam. Then docks were built, and crops were stored, And ingots added to the hoard. But though light-headed man forget, Remembering Matter pays her debt: Still, through her motes and masses, draw Electric thrills and ties of law, Which bind the strengths of Nature wild To the conscience of a child.
# Poems (Emerson, Household Edition, 1904)/Written at Rome

WRITTEN AT ROME
Alone in Rome. Why, Rome is lonely too;— Besides, you need not be alone; the soul Shall have society of its own rank. Be great, be true, and all the Scipios, The Catos, the wise patriots of Rome, ​Shall flock to you and tarry by your side, And comfort you with their high company. Virtue alone is sweet society, It keeps the key to all heroic hearts, And opens you a welcome in them all. You must be like them if you desire them, Scorn trifles and embrace a better aim Than wine or sleep or praise; Hunt knowledge as the lover wooes a maid, And ever in the strife of your own thoughts Obey the nobler impulse; that is Rome: That shall command a senate to your side; For there is no might in the universe That can contend with love. It reigns forever. Wait then, sad friend, wait in majestic peace The hour of heaven. Generously trust Thy fortune's web to the beneficent hand That until now has put his world in fee To thee. He watches for thee still. His love Broods over thee, and as God lives in heaven, However long thou walkest solitary, The hour of heaven shall come, the man appear.
1833.
# Poems (Emerson, Household Edition, 1904)/Written in a Volume of Gœthe

WRITTEN IN A VOLUME OF GOETHE
Six thankful weeks,—and let it be A meter of prosperity,— In my coat I bore this book, And seldom therein could I look, For I had too much to think, Heaven and earth to eat and drink. Is he hapless who can spare In his plenty things so rare?
# Poems (Emerson, Household Edition, 1904)/Walden

WALDEN
In my garden three ways meet, Thrice the spot is blest; Hermit-thrush comes there to build, Carrier-doves to nest.
There broad-armed oaks, the copses' maze, The cold sea-wind detain; Here sultry Summer overstays When Autumn chills the plain.
​Self-sown my stately garden grows; The winds and wind-blown seed, Cold April rain and colder snows My hedges plant and feed.
From mountains far and valleys near The harvests sown to-day Thrive in all weathers without fear,— Wild planters, plant away!
In cities high the careful crowds Of woe-worn mortals darkling go, But in these sunny solitudes My quiet roses blow.
Methought the sky looked scornful down On all was base in man, And airy tongues did taunt the town, 'Achieve our peace who can!'
What need I holier dew Than Walden's haunted wave, Distilled from heaven's alembic blue, Steeped in each forest cave?
[If Thought unlock her mysteries, If Friendship on me smile, I walk in marble galleries, I talk with kings the while.]
​How drearily in College hall The Doctor stretched the hours, But in each pause we heard the call Of robins out of doors.
The air is wise, the wind thinks well, And all through which it blows, If plants or brain, if egg or shell, Or bird or biped knows;
And oft at home 'mid tasks I heed, I heed how wears the day; We must not halt while fiercely speed The spans of life away.
What boots it here of Thebes or Rome Or lands of Eastern day? In forests I am still at home And there I cannot stray.
# Poems (Emerson, Household Edition, 1904)/Worship

WORSHIP
This is he, who, felled by foes, Sprung harmless up, refreshed by blows: He to captivity was sold, But him no prison-bars would hold: Though they sealed him in a rock, Mountain chains he can unlock: Thrown to lions for their meat, The crouching lion kissed his feet; ​Bound to the stake, no flames appalled, But arched o'er him an honoring vault. This is he men miscall Fate, Threading dark ways, arriving late, But ever coming in time to crown The truth, and hurl wrong-doers down. He is the oldest, and best known, More near than aught thou call'st thy own, Yet, greeted in another's eyes, Disconcerts with glad surprise. This is Jove, who, deaf to prayers, Floods with blessings unawares. Draw, if thou canst, the mystic line Severing rightly his from thine, Which is human, which divine.
# Phantastes

Phantastes' is an 1858 fantasy novel written by George MacDonald. The story is of Anodos ("pathless" or "ascent" in Greek) and takes its inspiration from German romance, particularly Novalis. The story concerns a young man who is pulled into a dreamlike world and there hunts for his ideal of female beauty, embodied by the "Marble Lady". Warning: template has been deprecated.
PHANTASTES
A FAERIE ROMANCE FOR MEN AND WOMEN
BY
GEORGE MACDONALD
A new Edition, with thirty-three new Illustrations by Arthur Hughes; edited by Greville MacDonald
    "In good sooth, my masters, this is no door.
    Yet is it a little window, that looketh upon a great world."

## Table of Contents

* Preface
* Chapter I
* Chapter II
* Chapter III
* Chapter IV
* Chapter V
* Chapter VI
* Chapter VII
* Chapter VIII
* Chapter IX
* Chapter X
* Chapter XI
* Chapter XII
* Chapter XIII
* Chapter XIV
* Chapter XV
* Chapter XVI
* Chapter XVII
* Chapter XVIII
* Chapter XIX
* Chapter XX
* Chapter XXI
* Chapter XXII
* Chapter XXIII
* Chapter XXIV
* Chapter XXV
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
# Phantasmagoria and Other Poems/Ye Carpette Knyghte

Ye Carpette Knyghte.
I have a horse—a ryghte good horse— Ne doe I envie those Who scoure ye plaine yn headie course, Tyll soddaine on theire nose They lyghte wyth unexpected force— Yt ys—a horse of clothes.
I have a saddel—"Say'st thou soe? Wyth styrruppes, Knyghte, to boote?" I sayde not that—I answere "Noe"— Yt lacketh such, I woot— Yt ys a mutton-saddel, loe! Parte of ye fleecie brute.
I have a bytte—a ryghte good bytte— As schall bee seene yn tyme. Ye jawe of horse yt wyll not fytte; Yts use ys more sublyme. Fayre Syr, how deemest thou of yt? Yt ys—thys bytte of rhyme.
# Poems (May)/Scene from "Le misanthrope" of Moliere

THE END.
# Phillips Petroleum Company v. Oklahoma

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
340 U.S. 190
Phillips Petroleum Company v. Oklahoma
Argued: Nov. 9-10, 1950. --- Decided: Dec 11, 1950
Mr. R. M. Williams, Oklahoma City, Okl., Mr. Don Emery, Bartlesville, Okl., for appellant.
Mr. T. Murray Robinson, Oklahoma City, for appellee State of Oklahoma.
Mr. Floyd Green, Oklahoma City, for appellee Corporation Commission of State of Oklahoma.
Mr. Justice CLARK 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
# Phillips Petroleum Company v. Wisconsin

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

## Concurring Opinion

    Frankfurter

## Dissenting Opinions

    Douglas
    Clark
United States Supreme Court
347 U.S. 672
Phillips Petroleum Company v. Wisconsin
Argued: April 6, 7, 1954. --- Decided: June 7, 1954
[Syllabus from pages 672-673 intentionally omitted]
Mr. Solicitor General Simon E. Sobeloff, Washington, D.C., for petitioner Federal Power Commission.
Mr. Hugh B. Cox, Washington, D.C., for petitioner Phillips Petroleum co.
Mr. Dan Moody, Austin, Tex., for petitioner State of Texas and others.
Messrs. Stewart G. Honeck, Wm. E. Torkelson, Madison, Wis., Charles S. Rhyne, Washington, D.C., James H. Lee, Austin, Tex., Harry G. Slater, Washington, D.C., for respondents.
Mr. Justice MINTON 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
# Phillips and Colby Construction Company v. Seymour

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
91 U.S. 646
Phillips and Colby Construction Company v. Seymour
ERROR to the Circuit Court of the United States of the Northern District of Illinois.
Mr. Thomas Dent and Mr. Edwin H. Abbot for the plaintiff in error.
Mr. Jeremiah S. Black and Mr. H. K. Whiton for the defendants in error.
MR. JUSTICE MILLER 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
# Phillips v. California

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
386 U.S. 212
Phillips v. California
See 386 U.S. 1000, 87 S.Ct. 1311.
Janet Phillips and William Ross Phillips, pro se.
Thomas C. Lynch, Atty. Gen. of California, William E. James, Asst. Atty. Gen., and S.C.lark Moore, Deputy Atty. Gen., for appellee.
On Petition for Writ of Certiorari to the District Court of Appeal of California, Second Appellate District.
PER CURIAM.

## 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
# Poems (Hinchman)/The sedge on the wind-beaten shore

I
THE CHILDREN OF LIR
Because of her jealousy, Aoife changed her husband's children into four white swans. And the enchantment was to last thrice three hundred years, and their sufferings were to be very great. But appalled at what she had done, and unable to break the enchantment, Aoife permitted them to keep their loved speech of the Gael. And their singing was so beautiful that it overcame every one, and whoso had sorrows and heard it, his sorrows were as naught.
# Poems (Betham)/To a Llangollen Rose, the day after it had been given me by Miss Ponsonby

July 22, 1799.
# Poems (Betham)/To Miss Rouse Boughton

Aberystwith, July 5th, 1799.
# Poems (Betham)/The Old Fisherman

Poems.
Aldborough, September 7, 1800.
# Poems (Rice)

Privately Printed at the Riverside Press,
CAMBRIDGE, 1869.
CONTENTS.
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
# Poems (Stephens)/A visit to pleasant vale

A VISIT TO PLEASANT VALE.
The following very happy poetic description of what is known as "Pleasant Vale" extending from Zoar Bridge on the Housatonic to the location of the Dawson Woolen factory, will be familiar to those who were acquainted with the place some years ago. It marks the changes of time in that locality very feelingly:
# Poems (Southey)/Volume 2/The Witch

ECLOGUE V.
THE WITCH.
# Poems (Southey)/Volume 2/The Victory

THE VICTORY.
# Poems (Southey)/Volume 2/The Vision of the Maid of Orleans

The Vision of The Maid of Orleans.
The following Vision was originally printed as the ninth book of JOAN of ARC. It is now adapted to the improved edition of that Poem.
* The First Book
* The Second Book
* The Third Book