OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Sword Blades and Poppy Seed/Patience

Be patient with you?  When the stooping sky Leans down upon the hills And tenderly, as one who soothing stills  An anguish, gathers earth to lie Embraced and girdled. Do the sun-filled men  Feel patience then?
Be patient with you?  When the snow-girt earth Cracks to let through a spurt Of sudden green, and from the muddy dirt  A snowdrop leaps, how mark its worth To eyes frost-hardened, and do weary men  Feel patience then?
Be patient with you?  When pain's iron bars Their rivets tighten, stern To bend and break their victims; as they turn,  Hopeless, there stand the purple jars Of night to spill oblivion. Do these men  Feel patience then?
Be patient with you?  You! My sun and moon! My basketful of flowers! My money-bag of shining dreams! My hours,  Windless and still, of afternoon! You are my world and I your citizen.  What meaning can have patience then?
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 1925, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 98 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
# Sword Blades and Poppy Seed/Sunshine through a Cobwebbed Window

What charm is yours, you faded old-world tapestries, Of outworn, childish mysteries,  Vague pageants woven on a web of dream!  And we, pushing and fighting in the turbid stream Of modern life, find solace in your tarnished broideries.
Old lichened halls, sun-shaded by huge cedar-trees, The layered branches horizontal stretched, like Japanese  Dark-banded prints. Carven cathedrals, on a sky  Of faintest colour, where the gothic spires fly And sway like masts, against a shifting breeze.
Worm-eaten pages, clasped in old brown vellum, shrunk From over-handling, by some anxious monk.  Or Virgin's Hours, bright with gold and graven  With flowers, and rare birds, and all the Saints of Heaven, And Noah's ark stuck on Ararat, when all the world had sunk.
They soothe us like a song, heard in a garden, sung By youthful minstrels, on the moonlight flung  In cadences and falls, to ease a queen,  Widowed and childless, cowering in a screen Of myrtles, whose life hangs with all its threads unstrung.
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 1925, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 98 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
# Tayama Katai and His Novel Entitled Futon/Futon

Appendix A
Futon ("The Quilt"), a novel by Tayama Katai
Translated from the Japanese by Motoko B. Reece
| Chapter I. | 063 |
| II. | 067 |
| III. | 075 |
| IV. | 084 |
| V. | 100 |
| VI. | 108 |
| VII. | 119 |
| VIII. | 125 |
| IX. | 137 |
| X. | 142 |
| XI. | 149 |
# St. Joseph & Grand Island Railway Company v. Moore

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
243 U.S. 311
St. Joseph & Grand Island Railway Company v. Moore
Argued: January 30, 1917. --- Decided: March 6, 1917
Mr. Robert A. Brown for plaintiff in error.
Mr. John G. Parkinson for defendant in error.
Mr. Justice Clarke 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
# Stories of Norse Gods and Heroes/Geirrod

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GEIRROD.
Once two children, the sons of a giant, strayed into Asgard. They were too young to know the way back to their home.
Odin and Frigg, his wife, adopted the two boys and called them their sons. Odin cared most for Geirrod. But Frigg loved Aganor, the younger one, best.
When they were grown, Odin gave each of them a kingdom in his own realm. But Aganor left his kingdom and went back to Jotunheim.
Odin was pleased more than ever with Geirrod because he did not follow his brother.
But Frigg heard it said that Geirrod only appeared to be good, and that he tortured strangers to make them give up their gold.
When Odin heard this, he determined to go to see Geirrod and prove that it was not true. So he made himself look like a very old man, and went to Geirrod's house.
Instead of giving him a seat at the table and a bed, Geirrod chained him between two fires.
​For eight days the old man was silent, although no food was given him. He had not even any water, but once when Aganor, Geirrod's son, ran in and gave him a little cupful.
At last the fire became so hot that it burned the old man's clothing.
Then suddenly he began to sing a wonderful song in a deep and musical voice. Geirrod knew at once that it was Odin.
In his despair, he slew himself with his sword. The little Aganor, who had pitied the stranger, became king in his place.
# Stories of Norse Gods and Heroes/Gerd

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GERD.
No god was allowed to sit on Odin's throne but Odin himself.
One day when Frey was alone in the palace, he sat upon the throne and looked over into Jotunheim.
There he saw a maiden come out of a low, dark house. As she walked down the pathway, the air became clearer and warmer. The earth brightened and grew green. When she went inside and shut the door, the light faded, and the earth grew black again.
Around the low, dark house was a wavering wall of fire, and within the wall fierce dogs kept watch, night and day.
When the door was shut and Frey could no longer see the maiden, he went away sadly. He could neither eat nor sleep for longing to see her.
So sad was he that no one dared ask him his trouble. Skade, his mother, sent Skirner, his faithful friend, to find out what ailed him.
Frey told Skirner of the beautiful maiden, and ​that he could never be happy unless she came to Asgard.
Then Skirner said if he could have Frey's horse and sword, he would ride through the flame wall, kill the watch-dog's and bring Gerd to Asgard.
Frey gave his horse gladly. Skirner rode through the fire, although it roared in his ears and blazed far above his head.
When the dogs saw him, they set up a fierce howling. But Skirner quieted them with Frey's sword.
Gerd heard the noise outside and sent a servant to see what it was. The servant said an armed warrior stood at the door.
But Gerd knew he must be a god, or he could not have passed the flame wall. So she bade the servant bring him in and give him food and drink.
As soon as Skirner saw Gerd, he took from his pocket eleven of the golden apples of the gods and offered them to her as a present from Frey.
But Gerd would not have the apples. Then Skirner offered her the wonderful golden ring made by Sindre. This, also, she refused.
Then Skirner took out a magic wand and waved it over the maiden. As he waved the wand, he sang a magic song, telling of the warmth and ​light of Asgard and the beauty and gentleness of Frey.
As the maiden listened she became enchanted with the glory of the city of the gods, and no longer remembered her own cheerless land.
Then Skirner took her behind him on Frey's horse, and rode back across the rainbow bridge.
Frey stood by the gate watching. When he found that Skirner had not only brought Gerd, but that he had made her forget her home and love Asgard, he was so pleased that he let Skirner keep his sword.
# Stories of Norse Gods and Heroes/Andvare's Golden Ring

Layout 2
ANDVARE'S GOLDEN RING.
Once Odin and Loke set out to explore the whole world.
As they traveled they came to a stream by which sat an otter eating a fish. Loke threw a stone and killed the otter.
Taking the otter and the fish, they went on until they came to a farmhouse. There they asked to stay until morning. They showed the fish and the otter and said they would need no other food.
The farmer saw that Loke had killed his son, who often changed himself into an otter when he wanted to fish. He said nothing about it, but went out and told his two sons, Regin and Fafner.
When the skin had been taken off the otter, the two sons came in. They and their father overcame the gods and bound them.
Odin offered to pay a ransom. The farmer demanded enough gold to fill the otter skin and cover it.
So Odin sent Loke to the dwarf, Andvare, who ​was the richest of all dwarfs. He was also the wariest of all dwarfs. He changed himself into a fish and hid in the water.
But Loke borrowed a net from Ran, the sea-god's wife, and caught him.
When Andvare found that he could not escape, he gave up all his gold but one little ring. This he tried to hide under his arm. Loke took it away from him. The dwarf begged to have it given back. He said if he had the ring, he could make more gold; but, without it, he could do nothing.
When Loke would not let him have the ring, he cursed the gold, and said it Avould always bring trouble to its owner.
Loke carried the gold to Odin. Odin filled the otter skin and covered it, but kept the ring. When the farmer looked he found one hair that was not covered. Odin put the ring upon the hair and the farmer unbound him.
As soon as the gods were gone, the sons demanded some of the gold. The father refused to divide it, and Fafner killed him with a sword while he slept.
Then Begin demanded half the gold. But Fafner ran away with the whole hoard.
# Sunset Gun/For a Favorite Grand-daughter

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For a Favorite Grand-daughter
NEVER love a simple lad, Guard against a wise, Shun a timid youth and sad, Hide from haunted eyes.
Never hold your heart in pain For an evil-doer; Never flip it down the lane To a gifted wooer.
Never love a loving son, Nor a sheep astray; Gather up your skirts and run From a tender way.
Never give away a tear, Never toss and pine; Should you heed my words, my dear, You’re no blood of mine!
# Sunset Gun/Coda

Layout 2
Coda
THERE’S little in taking or giving, There’s little in water or wine; This living, this living, this living Was never a project of mine. Oh, hard is the struggle, and sparse is The gain of the one at the top, For art is a form of catharsis, And love is a permanent flop, And work is the province of cattle, And rest’s for a clam in a shell, So I’m thinking of throwing the battle— Would you kindly direct me to hell?
# Sunset Gun/Dilemma

Layout 2
Dilemma
IF I were mild and I were sweet, And laid my heart before your feet, And took my dearest thoughts to you, And hailed your easy lies as true; Were I to murmur “Yes,” and then “How true, my dear,” and “Yes,” again, And wear my eyes discreetly down, And tremble whitely at your frown, And keep my words unquestioning— My love, you’d run like anything!
Should I be frail, and I be mad, And share my heart with every lad, But beat my head against the floor What times you wandered past my door; Were I to doubt, and I to sneer, And shriek “Farewell!” and still be here, And break your joy, and quench your trust— I should not see you for the dust!
# Sunset Gun/Directions for Finding the Bard

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Directions for Finding the Bard
WOULD you see what I’m like, This is what to do: Drowse and take your time, like Camels in a zoo. Sit you where you are, son; Rest you where you lie; I am never far, son,— I’ll be coming by. Watch for Trouble, walking All along his course, Stepping high and stalking Like a funeral horse. See his little friend, there, Knee beside his knee; There’s your search’s end, there,— That’ll be me!
Would you want to see me, This is what to try: Stretch you, sweet and dreamy, Looking at the sky. Watch for Gloom, a-wheeling Black across the sun, Gibbering and squealing— All the crows in one. See a little speck, there, Side against his side, Sticking at his neck, there; Going for the ride; Dropping, does he drop, son; Looping with him, maybe. Let your seeking stop, son,— That’ll be Baby!
# Sunset Gun/Daylight Saving

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Daylight Saving
MY answers are inadequate To those demanding day and date, And ever set a tiny shock Through strangers asking what’s o’clock; Whose days are spent in whittling rhyme— What’s time to her, or she to Time?
# Sunset Gun/Fable

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Fable
OH, there once was a lady, and so I’ve been told,cold. Whose lover grew weary, whose lover grew cold. “My child,” he remarked, “though our episode ends, In the manner of men, I suggest we be friends.” And the truest of friends ever after they were— Oh, they lied in their teeth when they told me of her!
# Sunset Gun/Fair Weather

Layout 2
Fair Weather
THIS level reach of blue is not my sea; Here are sweet waters, pretty in the sun, Whose quiet ripples meet obediently A marked and measured line, one after one. This is no sea of mine, that humbly laves Untroubled sands, spread glittering and warm. I have a need of wilder, crueler waves; They sicken of the calm, who knew the storm.
So let a love beat over me again, Loosing its million desperate breakers wide; Sudden and terrible to rise and wane; Roaring the heavens apart; a reckless tide That casts upon the heart, as it recedes, Splinters and spars and dripping, salty weeds.
# Sunset Gun/Frustration

Layout 2
Frustration
IF I had a shiny gun I could have a world of fun Speeding bullets through the brains Of the folk who give me pains
Or had I some poison gas I could make the moments pass Bumping off a number of People whom I do not love.
But I have no lethal weapon— Thus does Fate our pleasure step on! So they still are quick and well Who should be, by rights, in hell.
# Sunset Gun/For R.C.B.

Layout 2
For R. C. B.
LIFE comes a-hurrying, Or life lags slow; But you’ve stopped worrying— Let it go! Some call it gloomy, Some call it jake; They’re very little to me— Let them eat cake! Some find it fair, Some think it hooey, Many people care; But we don’t, do we?
# Sunset Gun/For a Lady Who Must Write Verse

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For a Lady Who Must Write Verse
UNTO seventy years and seven,well— Hide your double birthright well— You, that are the brat of Heaven And the pampered heir to Hell.
Let your rhymes be tinsel treasures, Strung and seen and thrown aside. Drill your apt and docile measures Sternly as you drill your pride.
Show your quick, alarming skill in Tidy mockeries of art; Never, never dip your quill in Ink that rushes from your heart.
When your pain must come to paper, See it dust, before the day; Let your night-light curl and caper, Let it lick the words away.
Never print, poor child, a lay on Love and tears and anguishing, Lest a cooled, benignant Phaon Murmur, “Silly little thing!”
# Summer Morning

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Summer Morning."
* 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.

### Summer Morning

* "Summer Morning", a poem by Elizabeth Margaret Chandler
* "Summer Morning", a poem by Sarah J. Hale

### A Summer Morning

* "A Summer Morning", a poem by Clinton Scollard
* "A Summer Morning", a poem by Lydia Huntley Sigourney
# Summer Night, Riverside

* Teasdale, Sara (1915), "Summer Night, Riverside" in Rivers to the Sea.
* Teasdale, Sara (1917), "Summer Night, Riverside" in Love Songs.
# Summer Song

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Summer Song."
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, 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.
* Summer Song, or, The Summer's Call, versions of a poem by Felicia Hemans
* Summer Song, a poem by William Carlos Williams
# Summer Studies

* "Summer Studies" in Religious Poems, 1867.
* "Summer Studies" in The Riverside song book, 1893.
# Summer Morn

"Summer Morn" is a 5-line poem featuring Am-ra the Ta-an, about whom a much longer, probably unfinished work was also written.
Summer Morn
This work is from the United States and in the public domain because it was not legally published with the permission of the copyright holder before January 1, 2003 and the author died more than 70 years ago. This is a posthumous work and its copyright in certain countries and areas may depend on years since posthumous publication, rather than years since the author's death. Translations or editions published later may be copyrighted.
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
# Summer Morn in New Hampshire

First published in Workers' Dreadnought, 31 July 1920
* Summer Morn in New Hampshire
* All yesterday it poured, and all night long
* I could not sleep; the rain unceasing beat
* Upon the shingled roof like some weird song
* Upon the grass like running children's feet.
* And down the mountains by the dark clouds kissed,
* Like a pale girl in floating veiling dressed,
* Slid slowly, silently, the wraith-like mist,
* Nestling softly against the earth's wet breast.
* But O! it was so wonderful at dawn!
* The still air stirred at touch of the faint breeze,
* The sun, a sheet of gold, spread o'er the lawn,
* The song-birds caroled in the dancing trees,
* And every creature hailed with joy the day:
* But wearily, I turned away from all;
* For you, who hold my heart, are far away,
* So far away, lost, lost, beyond recall.
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 1948, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 75 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
# Summer Silence

Published in the 1915 Harvard Advocate, and later in the author's 1923 compendium Tulips and Chimneys
Eruptive lightnings flutter to and fro Above the heights of immemorial hills; Thirst-stricken air, dumb-throated, in its woe Limply down-sagging, its limp body spills Upon the earth. A panting silence fills The empty vault of Night with shimmering bars Of sullen silver, where the lake distils Its misered bounty.—Hark! No whisper mars The utter silence of the untranslated stars.
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 1962, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 61 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
# Summer Wind

It is a sultry day; the sun has drank The dew that lay upon the morning grass, There is no rustling in the lofty elm That canopies my dwelling, and its shade Scarce cools me. All is silent, save the faint And interrupted murmur of the bee, Settling on the sick flowers, and then again Instantly on the wing. The plants around Feel the too potent fervors; the tall maize Rolls up its long green leaves; the clover droops Its tender foliage, and declines its blooms. But far in the fierce sunshine tower the hills, With all their growth of woods, silent and stern, As if the scortching heat and dazzling light Were but an element they loved. Bright clouds, Motionless pillars of the brazen heaven;-- Their bases on the mountains--their white tops Shining in the far ether--fire the air With a reflected radiance, and make turn The gazer's eye away. For me, I lie Languidly in the shade, where the thick turf, Yet virgin from the kisses of the sun, Retains some freshness, and I woo the wind That still delays its coming. Why so slow, Gentle and voluble spirit of the air? Oh, come and breathe upon the fainting earth Coolness and life. Is it that in his caves He hears me? See, on yonder woody ridge, The pine is bending his proud top, and now, Among the nearer groves, chesnut and oak Are tossing their green boughs about. He comes! Lo, where the grassy meadow runs in wives! The deep distressful silence of the scene Breaks up with mingling of unnumbered sounds And universal motion. He is come, Shaking a shower of blossoms from the shrubs, And bearing on the fragrance; and he brings Music of birds, and rustling of young boughs, And soun of swaying branches, and the voice Of distant waterfalls. All the green herbs Are stirring in his breath; a thousand flowers, By the road-side and the borders of the brook, Nod gaily to each other; glossy leaves Are twinkling in the sun, as if the dew Were on them yet, and silver waters break Into small waves and sparkle as he comes.
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
# Summer begins to have the look

Summer begins to have the look Peruser of enchanting Book Reluctantly but sure perceives A gain upon the backward leaves —
Autumn begins to be inferred By millinery of the cloud Or deeper color in the shawl That wraps the everlasting hill.
The eye begins its avarice A meditation chastens speech Some Dyer of a distant tree Resumes his gaudy industry.
Conclusion is the course of All At most to be perennial And then elude stability Recalls to immortality.
# Summer Song (Felicia Hemans)

* Summer Song, in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine Volume 32, 1832.
* The Summer's Call, in National Lyrics, and Songs for Music, 1834.
# The Adopted Child

* The Adopted Child, in The Monthly Magazine Volume 2, 1826.
* The Adopted Child, in Records of Woman: with Other Poems (Miscellaneous Pieces), 1828.
# The Adolf Hitler Trial before the People's Court in Munich Judgment

* related portals: People's Court of Bavaria.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
J U D G M E N T
* Basis for Indictment
* Information Regarding Individuals
* The Verdict
* Justification of the Verdict
This work is in the public domain in the U.S. because it is an edict of a government, local or foreign. See § 313.6(C)(2) of the Compendium II: Copyright Office Practices. Such documents include "legislative enactments, judicial decisions, administrative rulings, public ordinances, or similar types of official legal materials" as well as "any translation prepared by a government employee acting within the course of his or her official duties."
These do not include works of the Organization of American States, United Nations, or any of the UN specialized agencies. See Compendium III § 313.6(C)(2) and 17 U.S.C. 104(b)(5).
A non-American governmental edict may still be copyrighted outside the U.S. Similar to {{PD-in-USGov}}, the above U.S. Copyright Office Practice does not prevent U.S. states or localities from holding copyright abroad, depending on foreign copyright laws and regulations.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse