OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields/On the Barricade (L'Année Terrible, Victor Hugo)

ON THE BARRICADE.
VICTOR HUGO.
(L'Année Terrible.)
'Twas upon a barricade in the street With guilty blood polluted, but made clean Again with pure blood, that a child of twelve Was seized 'midst men with weapons in their hands. 'Art thou of these?'—The child said, 'Yes, I am.' 'Good!' said the officer, 'thou shalt be shot: Await thy turn.' Then blinding flashes past, And his companions fell beneath the wall, While he looked on. 'Permit me that I go'— Thus to the officer at last he said— 'And to my mother in our house, give back This watch of hers.'—'Ah, thou wouldst fly?'—'Not so, I shall return.'—'These children of the street Are cowards, after all. Where lodgest thou?'— 'Down there beside the fountain. Let me go, I shall come back, "Monsieur le capitaine."'— 'Be gone, thou rogue.'—And the child scampered off. Clumsy deceit, gross cunning of a boy! And all the soldiers with their captain laughed, And with the laughter mixed the rattle hoarse That issues from the throats of men that die; But the laugh ceased, for sudden he returned
Proud as Viala; step firm, and forehead high, He looked a trifle pale, as on the wall He like the others leaned, and cried aloud— 'Lo, here I am.' Death brass-browed blushed with shame, And the stern chief of pardon gave the sign.
I know not, child, amidst the present storm, This hurricane around us that confounds The heroes and the bandits good and ill, What urged thee to the combat, but I say, And boldly say, that thy soul ignorant Is a soul tender, lofty, and sublime. As kind as brave, thou in the gulf's dark depths Two steps couldst forward take instinctively— One to thy mother, one as calm to death. Childhood has candour, manhood has remorse; And thou art not responsible for what Thou wert induced to execute or try: But true and brave the child is that prefers To light, to life, to the bright dawn, to spring, To sports permitted, and to all his hopes, The sombre wall by which his friends have died. Glory has kissed thy brow—and thou so young! Boy-friend, Stesichorus in antique Greece Would willingly have charged thee to defend A port of Argos. Cynégirus would have said, 'We two are equals that each other love.' Thou wouldst have been admitted to the rank Of the pure-minded Grecian volunteers, By Tyrtæus at Messina, and at Thebes By Æschylus. On medals would thy name Have been engraved—medals of brass or gold To last for ages; and thou wouldst have been
Of those, who when they pass beside the wells Shaded by weeping willows, under skies Serenely blue, cause the young girl that bears The urn upon her shoulders, that the herd Of panting kine may drink therein by turns, To look round pensive, and to stand and gaze, And gaze again,—then sigh, and onwards move.
# A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields/On the Death of His Daughter (Victor Hugo)

ON THE DEATH OF HIS DAUGHTER.
VICTOR HUGO.
Oh, I was wild like a madman at first, Three days I wept bitter tears and accurst; O those whom God of your hope hath bereft! Fathers and mothers like me lonely left! Have ye felt what I felt, and known it all? And longed to dash your heads on the wall? Have ye been like me in open revolt, And defied the Hand that had hurled the bolt? I could not believe at all in the thing: I gazed, and I gazed, for a light to spring. Does God permit such misfortunes, nor care That our souls be filled with utter despair? It seemed as the whole were a frightful dream, She could not have left me thus like a gleam; Ha! That is her laughter in the next room! Oh no, she cannot be dead in the tomb. There shall she enter—come here by this door, And her step shall be music to me as before.
Oh! How oft have I said,—si1ence,—she speaks, Hold,—'tis her hand on the key, and it creaks: Wait—she comes! I must hear—leave me—go out, For she is in this mansion, somewhere, without doubt.
# A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields/On the First Page of an Album belonging to his Friend, Auguste Bressier (Émile Deschamps)

ON THE FIRST PAGE OF AN ALBUM BELONGING TO HIS FRIEND, AUGUSTE BRESSIER.
ÉMILE DESCHAMPS.
In this album, bright and blank, You give the first page up to me; I accept the solemn rank. Why not? The drum and fife, I see, March 'fore the colonel everywhere; Choir-boys and beadles on the ways, Precede the priests with hoary hair; Cheap wines are served on gala-days Before the costly wines of Spain; Guests drink, nor of the rule complain; And all museums take good care In entrance vestibules to place The daubs that give us stare for stare, While halls far in the Raphaels grace. Isn't this the law of Holy Writ, The first as last must choose to sit? When worlds were made from unshaped clay, Was not this order followed too? Who runs may read, is all I say: First minerals of every hue, Then flowers, the mirrors of the sun, Then animals that have no soul,
Then man in God's own image bright, And then when all this work was done, The crown and glory of the whole— Fair woman in her robe of light.
And now, behold, I make an end, With just this prelude on my lyre: You know the reason why, my friend, I am the tuner—to retire When throng Rossinis in to play; But if my spirit thus draw back For fear of a degrading fall From this high tourney of the Muse, Beside the gate I stand for aye; Nor deem me in affection slack; In friendship's race 'come one, come all,' No gauntlet thrown will I refuse. My challenge here is proud and high, Who loves you more? Dares none reply?
# A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields/Orso—A Pastoral (Émile Augier)

ORSO.
A PASTORAL.
ÉMILE AUGIER.
'This wild thrilling song, and this voice once again, My dear, ’tis Orso who comes back to the plain! Yes, Orso, who sees me as day follows day: Descending the last slope by the side of the springs, He leads lusty his herd, while his voice cheerful rings, 'Mid the tramp heavy of cattle athirst on their way.
'When he comes home at evening the fair peasant maid Who winnows the grain, sitting calm in the shade, Better to see him—for his like there is none— On the steps at the door loves on tiptoe to stand, And whispers he'll match any lord in the land, With his gold hair imprisoning the rays of the sun.
'If he wished it, he might to the loveliest pretend, For the girls leave their sickles, and the reaping suspend When the mother commences his marvellous tale,— What goblets he won at the jousts year by year, 'What rencontres he had by the wood, and how dear He made nobles pay, who dared him to assail.
'But the herdsman possesses a heart that looks high, He inquires not who loves him, what seamstresses sigh, Or what harvest-gatherers blush red at his name! In vain those make eyes, and strive hard these to shield Their complexions amid the rough work of the field, To secure his affections and kindle a flame.
'Orso regards not, and he takes the long road Some two miles longer, just to pass our abode And see my veil float at my casement,—but there Ends all his love's boldness; and I to console This tenderness mute, which he cannot control, Hang out the love-banner that he may not despair.'
Thus spake proud Stella of the race of Sienne, High-born and lovely, she looks down on all men; But the herdsman cares little for her, or her birth, He loves a sweet girl in the village hard by, Her figure is graceful, and dark is her eye, And her heart is the tenderest of any on earth.
# A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields/Night (Delphine de Girardin)

NIGHT.
MME. E. DE GIRARDIN.
(Delphine Gay.)
This is the hour. The veil is rent That hides my sorrows in the day; Opens my heart. Night-flowers their scent Thus open at the first star's ray.
O Night, Night lovely and profound! Thou know'st if worthy be of faith, The judgments rash with which men hound A stricken hind that bleeds to death.
Thou know'st the secret of my life! The courage gay to do and dare, The seeming calmness hides no strife— 'Tis an acceptance of despair!
For thee, I am myself again, No more hypocrisy or guile! I live, I love, I suffer pain, My sadness wears not e'en a smile.
No more the rose and lily crown! My brow resumes its mourning wreath; Weary my throbbing head hangs down, Tumbles the pride assumed, beneath.
My tears—long time, too long, held back— Force through my fingers and intrude, Like fountains that create a track Through the dead branches in a wood.
After a day of hard constraint, Of folly and of vanity, To languish without any feint Seems sweet to my humanity.
Oh! There's a bitter joy alway In liberty to bear our pangs, And yield ourselves a willing prey To sorrow's torturing deathful fangs.
A bitter joy, to drain the spring Of tears unto the lowest drop, Vanquished,—from fierce despair to wring Its last word or its final sob.
For then, oh then, the glutted grief Leaves a vague rest to hearts it shook, From life no more we seek relief, But to the Ideal only look.
We wheel in space, we float, we swim, By Evening's Spirit rendered free, We change to fleeting shadows dim That hover in immensity.
From death delivers and from shame This freedom with resistless force; We bear on earth no more a name, We dream all dreams without remorse.
Nothing of this deceiving earth, Nor bonds, nor laws, nor griefs remain; The soul receives a second birth And feels no more Imposture's pain.
Like a celestial butterfly, Its own flower it can blameless choose, It reasserts its nature high, And shakes off exile's slime and ooze.
O Night—the sombre and the bright! In thee I find all, all in sooth, For thou unitest gloom with light, And weddest Mystery with Truth.
But peace! The cold winds whistle clear, The east reveals a streak of grey, Adieu—adieu, O thoughts sincere, And welcome lies. Here comes the day!
# A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields/O Desert of the Heart (Sainte-Beuve)

O DESERT OF THE HEART.
SAINTE-BEUVE.
O Desert of the heart, in these long eves, When Autumn brings our flowerless Winter on. What a bleak wind across thy wild waste grieves With hollow murmurs for the dead and gone! O Desert of the heart!
In our fresh youth, when all things are new-born, Before we love, in our impatience, old, We mourn our fates as though we were forlorn: Then also how thou seemest vast and cold! O Desert of the heart!
We long for love, we think the heavens are rude, The future looks all cloud and storm and rain, And fierce against the barriers that exclude Our bliss we strike, but seem to strike in vain, O Desert of the heart!
Illusions! Run, O frank and bounding youth! There, at two paces, is the bush in flower, No more the desert. But for age, in sooth, Is there a white-rose bush or jasmine bower, O Desert of the heart?
Bitter delays and longings unattained! Oh! say, beyond the sands and folding mountains, Dim in the distance to our weak eyes strained, Is there not hid some Vaucluse with its fountains, O Desert of the heart?
# A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields/October (Émile Augier)

OCTOBER.
ÉMILE AUGIER.
Since Cybelè has ended her loves for the year, Since, like the lone widow, until May, of the sun, Stripping her hymeneal robe,—ah! once so dear! Leaf by leaf,—discrowned, sad, cold, and in fear, She sinks down to sleep till her mourning be done;
Since over the vine-plots there has stolen a change, And the grapes in the presses have run red as of old, For the cares of the winter since peasants arrange, And all husbandry-tools are laid by in the grange, And cold mornings are closer to evenings as cold:
Let us leave the fields moistened, and the vineyards forlorn, And at Paris regain our dear smoke-painted home;— The cool shades of their thousand attractions are shorn, The light garments half-open displease, and we scorn To stir early from bed, on the hill-sides to roam.
What now we require most is a closed room,—repose, A faggot of broom made, or a fire made of logs, Beer foaming, and a pipe that contentment bestows,— And two friends to converse with as the night deeper grows, With the heart overflowing, and the feet on the dogs.
# A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields/On the Death of a Young Girl (Evariste Desforges de Parny)

ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG GIRL.
EVARISTE DESFORGES DE PARNY.
Though childhood’s days were past and gone, More innocent no child could be; Though grace in every feature shone, Her maiden heart was fancy free.
A few more months, or haply days, And Love would blossom,—so we thought, As lifts in April's genial rays The rose its clusters richly wrought.
But God had destined otherwise, And so she gently fell asleep, A creature of the starry skies, Too lovely for the earth to keep.
She died in earliest womanhood; Thus dies, and leaves behind no trace, A bird’s song in a leafy wood,— Thus melts a sweet smile from a face.
# A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields/Omnia Vincit Amor (Auguste de Belloy)

OMNIA VINCIT AMOR.
A. DE BELLOY.
Under an ardent sun, a traveller gay, From a long pilgrimage I was coming back, Twelve oxen large and slow, along the track Dragged on the bark, in which I sheltered lay, Now half asleep, now gazing at the day Dying upon the red horizon's verge; Light blent with shade, when in the twilight dim, The landmarks sun-tipped of my journey's end Appeared far off, as beacons that emerge Over a sea, through vapours round that swim. But rough, uneven was the towing road, And so, nor crack of whip nor cry could lend Speed to the oxen staggering with their load. Sudden a child at play upon the shore Observed us, laughed, and warning me from far, Detached the oxen, swiftly, and with grace, From rope and halter, then triumphant bore With a gold thread bright-beaming as a star, Onwards the equipage at a wondrous pace, Without the semblance of an effort. 'What!' Cries out a sage, 'No effort—can it be? Why, Hercules himself could do it not. 'Tis a tale idle as the Genie's ring. When did this happen, and oh! tell me where?' Dear reader, shall I clear the mystery? The child was Love, of all magicians king, The thread of gold was from my Chloe's hair.
# A Selection of Hymns, Used in the Parish Church, and the Church of the Holy Trinity, Ulverston/Hymn 7

HYMN 7.
Awake! rejoice! and hail the morn, Whereon the Prince of Life was born; With grateful hearts arise and sing, Hosannah to th' eternal King; Let all the earth proclaim the morn Whereon the King of Kings was born.
He came, He came, the incarnate God, This dreary world made his abode; The angel hosts their Lord proclaim'd, And Jesus was this Saviour nam'd; All Heaven exulted on that morn, Whereon the Lord of Lords was born.
Arise, and join the choirs above, And sing the great Immanuel's love, In sweetest strains they jointly cry, All glory be to God on high; Let Heav'n and earth proclaim the morn, Whereon the Prince of Peace was born.
# A Selection of Hymns, Used in the Parish Church, and the Church of the Holy Trinity, Ulverston/Hymn 71

HYMN 71.
Lord of Heav'n and earth and ocean, Hear us from Thy bright abode; While our hearts, with deep devotion Own their great and gracious God: Now with joy we come before Thee, Seek Thy face, Thy mercies sing; Lord of life, and light, and glory, Guard Toy Church, and guide our Queen.
​Health and ev'ry needful blessing Are Thy bounteous gifts alone; Comforts undeserv'd possessing, Here we bend before Thy Throne: Young and old do now before Thee Their united tribute bring; Lord of life, and light, and glory, Shield our Isle, and save our Queen.
Thee, with humble adoration, Lord, we praise for mercies past; Still to this most favour'd nation May those mercies ever last; Britons, then, shall still before Thee Songs of ceaseless praises sing; Lord of life, and light, and glory, Bless Thy people, bless our Queen.
# A Selection of Hymns, Used in the Parish Church, and the Church of the Holy Trinity, Ulverston/Hymn 72

HYMN 72.
Lord of mercy and of might, Of mankind the Life and Light, Maker, Teacher, Infinite, Jesus, hear and save!
Mighty Monarch! Saviour mild! Humbled to a mortal child, Captive, beaten, bound, revil'd, Jesus, hear and save!
Thron'd above celestial things, Borne aloft on Angels' wings! Lord of Lords, and King of Kings, Jesus, hear and save!
​Who shall yet return from high, Rob'd in might and majesty, Hear us, help us, when we cry, Jesus, hear and save!
# A Selection of Hymns, Used in the Parish Church, and the Church of the Holy Trinity, Ulverston/Hymn 73

HYMN 73.
Lord, when we bend before Thy throne, And our confessions pour, Teach us to feel the sins we own, And hate what we deplore.
Our broken spirits pitying see; True penitence impart; And let a healing ray from Thee, Beam hope upon the heart.
When we disclose our wants in pray'r, May we our wills resign, And not a thought our bosom share, That is not wholly Thine.
May faith each weak petition fill, And waft it to the skies; And teach our hearts 'tis goodness still That grants it, or denies.
# A Selection of Hymns, Used in the Parish Church, and the Church of the Holy Trinity, Ulverston/Hymn 68

HYMN 68.
Love Divine all love excelling, Joy of Heav'n, to earth come down; Fix in us Thy humble dwelling, All Thy faithful mercies crown. Jesus, Thou art all compassion; Pure, unbounded love Thou art; Visit us with Thy salvation, Enter ev'ry waiting heart.
Come, Almighty, to deliver! Let us all Thy grace receive; Suddenly return and never, Never more Thy temple leave. Thee would we be ever blessing; Serve Thee as Thy hosts above; Pray, and praise Thee without ceasing, Glory in Thy perfect love.
​Finish then Thy new creation! Pure and spotless may we be; Let us see Thy great salvation, Perfectly restor'd in Thee; Changed from glory into glory, Till in Heav'n we take our place; Till we cast our crowns before Thee, Lost in wonder, love and praise.
# A Selection of Hymns, Used in the Parish Church, and the Church of the Holy Trinity, Ulverston/Hymn 69

HYMN 69.
Lord, if Thou Thy grace impart, Poor in spirit, meek in heart, Like the Saviour we shall be, Cloth'd with His humility.
Simple, teachable, and mild; Humble as a little child; Pleas'd with what the Lord provides; Wean'd from all the world besides.
Father fix our souls on Thee; Ev'ry evil let us flee; Always happy in Thy love; Looking for our rest above.
All that seek will surely find Ev'ry good in Christ combin'd; Him let Israel still adore, Trust and praise Him evermore.
# A Selection of Hymns, Used in the Parish Church, and the Church of the Holy Trinity, Ulverston/Hymn 70

HYMN 70.
Lord of the worlds above, How pleasant and how fair The dwellings of Thy love, Thy earthly temples are! ​To Thine abode Our hearts aspire, With warm desire To meet our God.
Oh! happy souls that pray Where God appoints to hear; Oh! happy men that pay Their constant service there; They praise Thee still; Thrice happy they, That love the way To Zion's Hill.
They go from strength to strength Through this dark vale of tears; Till each arrives at length, Till each in Heav'n appears; To that blest seat, O God our King, Direct and bring Our willing feet.
# A Selection of Hymns, Used in the Parish Church, and the Church of the Holy Trinity, Ulverston/Hymn 76

HYMN 76.
Lord of the Sabbath! hear us pray, In this Thy house, on this Thy day; Accept, as grateful sacrifice, The songs which from Thy temple rise.
Now met to pray, and bless Thy Name, Whose mercies flow each day the same; Whose kind compassions never cease, We seek instruction, pardon, peace.
Thine earthly Sabbaths, Lord we love, But there's a nobler rest above; O that we might that rest attain, From sin, from sorrow, and from pain.
Oh! long expected day, begin; Dawn on this world of woe and sin; Fain would we leave this weary road, To sleep in death, and rest in God.
# A Selection of Hymns, Used in the Parish Church, and the Church of the Holy Trinity, Ulverston/Hymn 74

HYMN 74.
Look down O Lord, and on our youth Bestow They gifts of Heav'nly grace; And let the seed of sacred truth Find in our minds a fruitful place:
​We now appear before Thy sight, Our vow and promise to renew; Prepare us for the solemn rite, Bid each his heart and life review.
Lord, teach us to remember Thee, Our great Creator, in our youth; Advancing to maturity, In years, in knowledge, grace, and truth.
Now in the strength of pow'r divine, Oh! may we all with glad accord, In holy covenant combine, And join ourselves to Christ the Lord.
Thy sons and daughters may we be, Confirm'd and strengthep'd by Thy grace, And safe through life preserv'd by Thee, In Heav'n behold Thee face to face.
# A Selection of Hymns, Used in the Parish Church, and the Church of the Holy Trinity, Ulverston/Hymn 75

HYMN 75.
Lo! round the throne, at God's right hand, The saints in countless myriads stand; Of ev'ry tongue redeem'd to God, Whose souls were ransom'd by His blood.
Through tribulation great they came; They bore the cross, despised the shame; From all their labours now they rest, In God's eternal glory bless'd.
They see their Saviour face to face, And sing the triumphs of His grace; Him day and night they ceaseless praise, To Him their loud Hosannahs raise—
​"Worthy the Lamb, for sinners slain, Through endless years to live and reign; Thou hast redeem'd us by Thy blood, And made us kings and priests to God."
# A Naval Biographical Dictionary/Griffiths, William Tomlin

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​GRIFFITHS. (Commander, 1846.)
William Tomlin Griffiths is son of the late Lieut.-Gen. J. Griffiths.
This officer entered the Navy 29 Jan. 1814; passed his examination in 1821; and obtained his first commission 16 Aug. 1825. His subsequent appointments were – 17 Dec. 1826 and 12 April, 1830, to the Rifleman 18, and Samarang 28, Capts. Fred. Thos. Michell and Wm. Fanshawe Martin, on the Mediterranean station – 2 April, 1833, after an interval of more than two years, to the Donegal 78, Capt. Arthur Fanshawe, off Lisbon – 8 May, 1833, and 21 March, 1834, to the Britannia 120, Capt. Peter Rainier, and Barham 50, Capt. Hugh Pigot, again in the Mediterranean, whence he came home shortly after joining the latter ship – 13 Jan. 1837, again to the Britannia, bearing the flag at Portsmouth of Sir Philip Chas. Durham, with whom he served until the summer of 1838 – and 29 June, 1843, to the Penelope steam-vessel, Capt. Wm. Jones, employed on particular service. He was superseded in the following Sept.; and, on 9 Nov. 1846, was advanced to his present rank.
Commander Griffiths married, 17 Nov. 1831, Louisa Catherine, daughter of the late J. Griffiths, Esq., of Argyll Street, London. Agents – Messrs. Stilwell.
# A Naval Biographical Dictionary/Grindred, John

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​GRINDRED. (Lieut., 1815. f-p., 10; h-p., 32.)
John Grindred entered the Navy, 28 June, 1805, as A.B., on board the Atlas 74, Capt. Sam. Pym, under whom, after serving for some time with the flag of Sir John Thos. Duckworth, he fought in the action off St. Domingo, 6 Feb. 1806. In July of that year he joined the Colossus 74, bearing the flag off Lisbon of Earl St. Vincent; and he next, from Jan. 1807 until Oct. 1811, performed the duties of Midshipman and Master’s Mate in the Terrible and Namur 74’s, flag-ships of Lord Collingwood and Sir Rich. John Strachan, off Cadiz, Toulon, and Sheerness. Until confirmed in his present rank, 28 Sept. 1815, Mr. Grindred was subsequently employed, alternately as Master’s Mate and Acting-Lieutenant, in the Trinculo sloop, Namur again, Capt. Alex. Shippard, Raleigh, Namur, and Rifleman, flag-ships in the North Sea of Rear-Admiral Thos. Williams, and Star, bearing the broad pendant of Sir Jas. Lucas Yeo on Lake Ontario. In Aug. 1814, while detached from the latter vessel, he obtained the particular mention of Capt. Alex. Dobbs, his commanding officer, for his gallant conduct at the capture on Lake Erie of the American armed schooners Ohio and Somers, and his skill in carrying one of them into the Niagara, through shoals and rapids, and under a constant and heavy fire. The British on this occasion, who numbered only 75, and were altogether inferior in force to the enemy, sustained a loss of 2 men killed and 4 wounded.
Lieut. Grindred has not been afloat since his promotion. Agents – Messrs. Stilwell.