OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Latter Day Saints' Messenger and Advocate/Volume 2/Number 1/Editorial

Messenger and Advocate.
KIRTLAND, OHIO, OCTOBER, 1835.
No. 1. Vol. 2.
As man is not always heard for his much speaking, we shall only say in this article, that our intentions are to labor faithfully in the great cause of our blessed Savior, that many souls may be brought to the knowledge of the truth and saved in the celestial kingdom; that the saints may have a portion of meat in due season, and be enabled to overcome the world, and its vanities, and prepare themselves for the blessings which shall come after much tribulation.
It is very desirable that the official members of the churches abroad, should forward all the information they may have, relative to the spread of the truth; the number of members in each branch; the additions from time to time; their growth in grace; their daily walk, and standing, and whatever else that may be of service to the cause: that we may all be edified of all, till we all come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ.
# Late Lyrics and Earlier, With Many Other Verses/At the Entering of the New Year

AT THE ENTERING OF THE NEW YEAR
I (OLD STYLE)
OUR songs went up and out the chimney, And roused the home-gone husbandmen; Our allemands, our heys, poussettings, Our hands-across and back again, Sent rhythmic throbbings through the casements On to the white highway, Where nighted farers paused and muttered, "Keep it up well, do they!"
The contrabasso's measured booming Sped at each bar to the parish bounds, To shepherds at their midnight lambings, To stealthy poachers on their rounds; And everybody caught full duly The notes of our delight, As Time unrobed the Youth of Promise Hailed by our sanguine sight.
II (NEW STYLE)
WE stand in the dusk of a pine-tree limb, As if to give ear to the muffled peal, Brought or withheld at the breeze's whim; But our truest heed is to words that steal From the mantled ghost that looms in the gray, And seems, so far as our sense can see, To feature bereaved Humanity, As it sighs to the imminent year its say:—
"O stay without, O stay without, Calm comely Youth, untasked, untired; Though stars irradiate thee about Thy entrance here is undesired. Open the gate not, mystic one; Must we avow what we would close confine? With thee, good friend, we would have converse none, Albeit the fault may not be thine."
December 31. During the War.
# Late Lyrics and Earlier, With Many Other Verses/Dream of the City Shopwoman

DREAM OF THE CITY SHOPWOMAN
'TWERE sweet to have a comrade here, Who'd vow to love this garreteer, By city people's snap and sneer Tried oft and hard!
We'd rove a truant cock and hen To some snug solitary glen, And never be seen to haunt again This teeming yard.
Within a cot of thatch and clay We'd list the flitting pipers play, Our lives a twine of good and gay Enwreathed discreetly;
Our blithest deeds so neighbouring wise That doves should coo in soft surprise, "These must belong to Paradise Who live so sweetly."
Our clock should be the closing flowers, Our sprinkle-bath the passing showers, Our church the alleyed willow bowers, The truth our theme;
And infant shapes might soon abound: Their shining heads would dot us round Like mushroom balls on grassy ground. . . . —But all is dream!
O God, that creatures framed to feel A yearning nature's strong appeal Should writhe on this eternal wheel In rayless grime;
And vainly note, with wan regret, Each star of early promise set; Till Death relieves, and they forget Their one Life's time!
Westbourne Park Villas, 1866.
# Late Lyrics and Earlier, With Many Other Verses/At a House in Hampstead

AT A HOUSE IN HAMPSTEAD
SOMETIME THE DWELLING OF JOHN KEATS
O POET, come you haunting here Where streets have stolen up all around, And never a nightingale pours one Full-throated sound?
Drawn from your drowse by the Seven famed Hills, Thought you to find all just the same Here shining, as in hours of old, If you but came?
What will you do in your surprise At seeing that changes wrought in Rome Are wrought yet more on the misty slope One time your home?
Will you wake wind-wafts on these stairs? Swing the doors open noisily? Show as an umbraged ghost beside Your ancient tree?
Or will you, softening, the while You further and yet further look, Learn that a laggard few would fain Preserve your nook? . . .
—Where the Piazza steps incline, And catch late light at eventide, I once stood, in that Rome, and thought, "'Twas here he died."
I drew to a violet-sprinkled spot, Where day and night a pyramid keeps Uplifted its white hand, and said, "'Tis there he sleeps."
Pleasanter now it is to hold That here, where sang he, more of him Remains than where he, tuneless, cold, Passed to the dim.
July 1920.
# Late Lyrics and Earlier, With Many Other Verses/Barthélémon at Vauxhall

BARTHÉLÉMON AT VAUXHALL
François Hippolite Barthélémon, first-fiddler at Vauxhall Gardens, composed what was probably the most popular morning hymn-tune ever written. It was formerly sung, full-voiced, every Sunday in most churches, to Bishop Ken's words, but is now seldom heard.
HE said: “Awake my soul, and with the sun," . . . And paused upon the bridge, his eyes due east, Where was emerging like a full-robed priest The irradiate globe that vouched the dark as done.
It lit his face—the weary face of one Who in the adjacent gardens charged his string, Nightly, with many a tuneful tender thing, Till stars were weak, and dancing hours outrun.
And then were threads of matin music spun In trial tones as he pursued his way: "This is a morn," he murmured, “well begun: This strain to Ken will count when I am clay!"
And count it did; till, caught by echoing lyres, It spread to galleried naves and mighty quires.
# Late Lyrics and Earlier, With Many Other Verses/End of the Year 1912

END OF THE YEAR 1912
You were here at his young beginning, You are not here at his agèd end; Off he coaxed you from Life's mad spinning, Lest you should see his form extend Shivering, sighing, Slowly dying, And a tear on him expend.
So it comes that we stand lonely In the star-lit avenue, Dropping broken lipwords only, For we hear no songs from you, Such as flew here For the new year Once, while six bells swung thereto.
# Late Lyrics and Earlier, With Many Other Verses/At the Royal Academy

AT THE ROYAL ACADEMY
THESE summer landscapes—clump, and copse, and croft— Woodland and meadowland—here hung aloft, Gay with limp grass and leafery new and soft,
Seem caught from the immediate season's yield I saw last noonday shining over the field, By rapid snatch, while still are uncongealed
The saps that in their live originals climb; Yester's quick greenage here set forth in mime Just as it stands, now, at our breathing-time.
But these young foils so fresh upon each tree, Soft verdures spread in sprouting novelty, Are not this summer's, though they feign to be.
Last year their May to Michaelmas term was run, Last autumn browned and buried every one, And no more know they sight of any sun.
# Late Lyrics and Earlier, With Many Other Verses/Epeisodia

EPEISODIA
I
PAST the hills that peep Where the leaze is smiling, On and on beguiling Crisply-cropping sheep; Under boughs of brushwood Linking tree and tree In a shade of lushwood, There caressed we!
II
Hemmed by city walls That outshut the sunlight, In a foggy dun light, Where the footstep falls With a pit-pat wearisome In its cadency On the flagstones drearisome There pressed we!
III
Where in wild-winged crowds Blown birds show their whiteness Up against the lightness Of the clammy clouds; By the random river Pushing to the sea, Under bents that quiver There rest we.
# Late Lyrics and Earlier, With Many Other Verses/At Moonrise and Onwards

AT MOONRISE AND ONWARDS
I THOUGHT you a fire On Heron-Plantation Hill, Dealing out mischief the most dire To the chattels of men of hire There in their vill.
But by and by You turned a yellow-green, Like a large glow-worm in the sky; And then I could descry Your mood and mien.
How well I know Your furtive feminine shape! As if reluctantly you show You nude of cloud, and but by favour throw Aside its drape. . . .
—How many a year Have you kept pace with me, Wan Woman of the waste up there, Behind a hedge, or the bare Bough of a tree!
No novelty are you, O Lady of all my time, Veering unbid into my view Whether I near Death's mew, Or Life's top cyme!
# Late Lyrics and Earlier, With Many Other Verses/At the Railway Station, Upway

AT THE RAILWAY STATION, UPWAY
"THERE is not much that I can do, For I've no money that's quite my own!” Spoke up the pitying child,— A little boy with a violin At the station before the train came in,— “But I can play my fiddle to you, And a nice one 'tis, and good in tone!"
The man in the handcuffs smiled; The constable looked, and he smiled, too, As the fiddle began to twang; And the man in the handcuffs suddenly sang Uproariously: "This life so free Is the thing for me!" And the constable smiled, and said no word, As if unconscious of what he heard; And so they went on till the train came in— The convict, and boy with the violin.
# Late Lyrics and Earlier, With Many Other Verses/By Henstridge Cross at the Year's End

BY HENSTRIDGE CROSS AT THE YEAR'S END
(From this centuries-old cross-road the highway leads east to London, north to Bristol and Bath, west to Exeter and the Land's End, and south to the Channel coast.)
WHY go the east road now? . . . That way a youth went on a morrow After mirth, and he brought back sorrow Painted upon his brow: Why go the east road now?
Why go the north road now? Torn, leaf-strewn, as if scoured by foemen, Once edging fiefs of my forefolk yeomen, Fallows fat to the plough: Why go the north road now?
Why go the west road now? Thence to us came she, bosom-burning, Welcome with joyousness returning. . . . She sleeps under the bough: Why go the west road now?
Why go the south road now? That way marched they some are forgetting, Stark to the moon left, past regretting Loves who have falsed their vow.... Why go the south road now?
Why go any road now? White stands the handpost for brisk onbearers, "Halt!" is the word for wan-cheeked farers Musing on Whither, and How. . . . Why go any road now?
"Yea: we want new feet now" Answer the stones. "Want chit-chat, laughter: Plenty of such to go hereafter By our tracks, we trow! We are for new feet now."
During the War.
# Jack of the Inkpot

NSW Dept of Education (1927-01-31). School magazine of literature.
I dance on your paper,  I hide in your pen,  I make in your ink-stand  My little black den;  And, when you're not looking,  I hop on your nose,  And leave on your forehead  The marks of my toes.
 When you're trying to finish  Your "i" with a dot,  I slip down your finger  And make it a blot;  And, when you're so busy  To cross a big "T,"  I make on the paper  A little Black Sea.
 I drink blotting-paper,  Eat pen-wiper pie;  You never can catch me,  You never need try!  I leap any distance,  I use any ink,  I'm on your fingers  Before you can wink.
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 1951, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 72 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
# Jack the Giant-Killer

* History of Jack and the giants (1800), anonymous chapbook
* History of Jack the giant killer (1840), anonymous chapbook
* "The History of Jack the Giant-Killer" in The Blue Fairy Book (1889) Andrew Lang
* "Jack the Giant-Killer" in English Fairy Tales (1890), Joseph Jacobs
* "Jack the Giant-killer" by Joseph Jacobs, edited by Arthur Rackham, illustrated by Arthur Rackham, in The Allies′ Fairy Book (1916)
# Jack and Jill (nursery rhyme)

* related portals: Nursery rhymes.
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, Commons category, quotes, Wikidata item.
"Jack and Jill" (sometimes "Jack and Gill", particularly in earlier versions) is a traditional English nursery rhyme. The Roud Folk Song Index classifies this tune and its variations as number 10266. The rhyme dates back at least to the 18th century and exists with different numbers of verses each with a number of variations. Warning: template has been deprecated.
* "Jack and Jill went up the hill" in A Book of Nursery Songs and Rhymes by Sabine Baring-Gould (1895).
* "Jack and Jill" in The Baby's Opera by Edmund Evans and Walter Crane (1900)
* "Jack and Jill" in A Book of Nursery Rhymes by Charles Welsh (1901).
* "Jack and Jill" in The Nursery Rhymes of Mother Goose by Arthur Rackham (St. Nicholas, Apr. 1913)
* "Jack and Jill" in The Real Mother Goose by Blanche Fisher Wright (1916)
* "Jack and Jill" in The Child's Own Music Book (ed.) by Albert Ernest Wier (1918).

## See also

* Jack and Jill by Louisa May Alcott
# Jack in the Box

Jack in the Box.
This is the picture of Jack in the Box,
Who came to our house to stop,
We promised he should have plenty of friends
When we brought him from the shop.
Santa Claus.
Just when you all are fast asleep
Comes Santa Claus, he takes no rest,
And fills your stockings to the brim
With all the things you love the best.
So don't forget to hang
them up,
And if you find your
own too small,
Let mother lend you
some of hers,
And Santa Claus will
fill them all.
My Family.
I've a family of dollies, I love them all, my dear,
The black-haired one you see with me is
named Rose Dorothea,
And the other little darling whose
hair is just like gold
Is called Anna Maria, I pet her most I'm told.
But really to my children I try always to be fair,
Though somehow I think prettiest the ones
with golden hair.
Summer-time.
Flowers, sweet flowers are everywhere
'Tis the blossoming month of June,
The hum of the bees is on the soft air,
And the streams are singing a tune.
The sheep are cropping the grasses green,
Where shadows are deep and cool
And the lazy ducks go to swim, I ween,
Out on the quiet pool.
Clever Piggy.
This wise little pig could hoe and dig
And cook his dinner too,
He could sweep and sew and milk and mow,
Everything he could do.
Father Tuck.
RAPHAEL TUCK & SONS, L$^{TD.}$ LONDON, PARIS, and NEW YORK. Publishers to the Queen.
# Jack and the Beanstalk

English fairy tale. The earliest known written versions are the anonymous "The Story of Jack Spriggins and the Enchanted Bean" (1734) and Benjamin Tabart's "The History of Jack and the Bean-Stalk" (1807). Many other popular versions have appeared since, with the most popular being that of Joseph Jacobs in English Fairy Tales (1890).
* "The Story of Jack Spriggins and the Enchanted Bean" (1734).
* "The History of Jack and the Bean-Stalk" by Benjamin Tabart (1807).
* "Jack and the Beanstalk" by Joseph Jacobs, in English Fairy Tales (1890).
* "Jack and the Beanstalk" by Andrew Lang, in The Red Fairy Book (1890).
# Letters to Atticus/3.22

Translated by Evelyn Shuckburgh

## To Atticus at Rome
### Thessalonica and Dyrrachium, 27 November 58 BC

Though my brother Quintus and Piso have given me a careful account of what has been done, yet I could have wished that your engagements had not hindered you from writing fully to me, as has been your custom, what was on foot and what you understood to be the facts. Up to the present, Plancius keeps me here by his generous treatment, though I have several times already made an effort to go to Epirus. He has conceived a hope, which I do not share, that we may possibly quit the province together: he hopes that that may redound greatly to his credit. But as soon as news shall come that soldiers are on their way hither, I shall have to insist on quitting him. And as soon as I do that I will at once send you word, that you may know where I am. Lentulus, in his own peculiar zeal for my cause, which he manifests by action and promises and writings, gives me some hope of Pompey's friendly feelings. For you have often told me in your letters that the latter was wholly devoted to him. As to Metellus, my brother has written me word that by your agency as much has been accomplished as he had hoped. My dear Pomponius, fight hard that I may be allowed to live with you and my own family, and write me everything that occurs. I am heavy with sorrow and regret for all my dear ones, who have always been dearer to me than myself. Take care of your health.
Dyrrachium, 27 November. As, if I went through Thessaly into Epirus, I should have been likely to be a very long time without any intelligence, and as I have warm friends. in the people of Dyrrachium, I have come to them, after writing the former part of this letter at Thessalonica. When I turn my face from this town towards your house I will let you know, and for your part I would have you write me everything with the utmost particularity, whatever its nature. I am now expecting some definite step or the abandonment of all hope.

## Footnotes

* ↑ Cn. Plancius, quaestor in Macedonia, whose kindness Cicero lauds highly when defending him in B.C. 54.
* ↑ The forces of the new governor, L. Calpurnius Piso, who was to have Macedonia after his consulship, and would be sending his troops on before him.
* ↑ P. Cornelius Lentulus, consul-designate for B.C. 57.
* ↑ Q. Caecilius Metellus Nepos, consul.designate for B.C. 57. See pp. 22-23.
# Letters to Atticus/3.27

Translated by Evelyn Shuckburgh

## To Atticus (at Rome?)
### Dyrrachium, after 25 January 57 BC

From your letter and from the bare facts I see that I am utterly ruined. I implore you, in view of my deplorable position, to stand by my family in whatever respect they shall need your help. I shall, as you say, see you soon.

## Footnotes

* ↑ Perhaps he has just heard that the sitting of the senate on the 25th of January had been interrupted by Clodius's roughs. But other similar events happened, and there is no certain means of dating this note. The difficulty, as it stands, is that it implies Atticus's temporary return to Rome.
# Letters to Atticus/3.4

Translated by Evelyn Shuckburgh

## To Atticus at Rome
### near Vibo, April 58 BC

I hope you will attribute my sudden departure from Vibo, whither I had asked you come, to my unhappiness rather than to fickleness. A copy of the bill for my ruin was brought to me, in which the correction of which I had been told was to the effect that I might legally remain anywhere beyond 400 miles. Since I was not allowed to go yonder, I set out towards Brundisium before the day for carrying the bill had come, both to prevent Sica, in whose house I was staying, from being ruined, and because I was prevented from residing at Malta. So now make haste to catch me up, if only I shall find any welcome there. At present I receive kind invitations. But about the rest of my journey I am nervous. Truly, my dear Pomponius, I am very sorry I consented to live: in which matter you exercised the chief influence with me. But of these things when we meet. Only be sure and come.

## Footnotes

* ↑ To Malta. The propraetor of Sicily, C. Vergilius, opposed his going to Malta, which was in the province of Sicily, though it had a primus of its own (Planc. 40; Plut. Cic. 32).
* ↑ Because of entertaining the condemned man, a special proviso in this law (Dio, 38.17).
* ↑ In Epirus, believing that Atticus will understand that his going to Brundisium means that he will go to Epirus and as Atticus lives there, he naturally asks him to come to meet him. Epirus was, for certain purposes at least, in the province of Macedonia, and it depended on the governor, L. Appuleius Saturninus, what reception be would meet. His friend Plancius was quaestor.
# Letters to Atticus/3.5

Translated by Evelyn Shuckburgh

## To Atticus at Rome
### Thurium, 10 April 58 BC

Terentia thanks you frequently and very warmly. That is a great comfort to me. I am the most miserable man alive, and am being worn out with the most poignant sorrow. I don't know what to write to you. For if you are at Rome, it is now too late for you to reach me; but if you are on the road, we shall discuss together all that needs to be discussed when you have overtaken me. All I ask you is to retain the same affection for me, since it was always myself you loved. For I am the same man: my enemies have taken what was mine, they have not taken myself. Take care of your health.
From Thurium, 10 April.
# Letters to Atticus/3.25

Translated by Evelyn Shuckburgh

## To Atticus (in Epirus?)
### Dyrrachium, December 58 BC

After you left me I received a letter from Rome, from which I see clearly that I must rot away in this state of disfranchisement: for I can't believe (don't be offended at my saying so) that you would have left town at this juncture, if there had been the least hope left of my restoration. But I pass over this, that I may not seem to be ungrateful and to wish everything to share my own ruin. All I ask of you is what you have faithfully promised, that you will appear before the 1st of January wherever I may be.

## Footnotes

* ↑ There is no indication in the letter as to where Atticus is. He left Rome late in B.C. 58, and apparently did not return till after Cicero's recall. The most natural explanation is that he was in Epirus, or somewhere in Greece, and that he had visited Cicero at Dyrrachium on his way. I do not quite see how this should be thought impossible in view of the last sentence of LXXXV or the next letter. Cicero asks Atticus to join him, but he might do so whether Atticus were at Buthrotum, or Rome, or anywhere else.
# Letters to Atticus/3.6

Translated by Evelyn Shuckburgh

## To Atticus at Rome
### on the way to Tarentum, 17 April 58 BC

I had felt certain of seeing you at Tarentum or Brundisium, and that was of importance to me in many respects: among others, as to my being able to stay in Epirus and consult you about the future. My disappointment in this is only another item in the long list of my misfortunes. I mean to go to Asia, to Cyzicus for choice. I commend my family to you. I am very wretched and can scarcely support my life. From near Tarentum, 17 April.

## Footnotes

* ↑ We suppose that Cicero has heard from Atticus that he is not going to be at Tarentum or Brundisium, for he writes before arriving at either.
# Letters to Atticus/3.26

Translated by Evelyn Shuckburgh

## To Atticus (in Epirus?)
### Dyrrachium, January 57 BC

I have received a letter from my brother Quintus inclosing the decree of the senate passed Concerning me. My intention is to await the time for legislation, and, if the law is defeated, I shall avail myself of the resolution of the senate, and prefer to be deprived of my life rather than of my country. Make haste, I beg, to come to me.

## Footnotes

* ↑ 1 On 1st January, B.C. 57, P. Lentulus brought the case of Cicero before the senate. The prevailing opinion was that his interdictio having been illegal, the senate could quash it. But Pompey, for the sake of security, recommended a lex. One of the tribunes, without actually vetoing the senatus consultum, demanded a night for consideration. The question was again debated in succeeding meetings of the senate, but on the 25th was not decided. Technically an auctoritas was a decree that had been vetoed by a tribune, and Cicero (pro Sest. § 74) implies that such a veto had been put in, and at any rate the noctispostulatio was equivalent to a veto.
# Letters to Atticus/3.3

Translated by Evelyn Shuckburgh

## To Atticus at Rome
### Vibo, April 58 BC

I hope I may see the day when I shall thank you for having compelled me to remain alive! At present I thoroughly repent it. But I beg you to come and see me at Vibo at once, to which town I have for several reasons directed my journey. But if you will only come there, I shall be able to consult you about my entire journey and exile. If you don't do so, I shall be surprised, but I feel sure you will.

## Footnotes

* ↑ Mod. Monte Leone, on the road to Rhegium, from which at this time Cicero meant to cross to Sicily, and thence to Malta.