OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Persian Letters/Letter 134
#### Letter 134

Rica to the Same
Yesterday I returned to the same library, and met a man very different from him whom I had seen the first time. His manner was simple, his countenance intelligent, and his address most courteous. As soon as he understood my desire, he set himself to satisfy it, and even, as I was a stranger, to instruct me.
“Good father,” said I, “what are those large volumes which fill all that side of the library?” “These,” said he, “are interpretations of the Scriptures.” “What a quantity there are!” rejoined I; “the Scriptures must have been very obscure formerly, and cannot fail to be very obvious now. Do any doubts remain? Are there any points left in dispute?” “Any, good heavens! any!” cried he; “there are almost as many as there are lines.” “Indeed!” said I; “then what have all these authors done?” “These authors,” he replied, “did not search the Scriptures for what ought to be believed, but for what they themselves believed; they did not regard the Scriptures as a work containing doctrines which they were bound to accept, but as a work which might sanction their own ideas; therefore it is that they have corrupted its meaning, and twisted every text. It is a country which all sects invade as if bent on pillage; it is a battlefield on which hostile nations encounter each other in endless engagements, attacking and skirmishing in every possible manner.
“Close to these you see books of asceticism and devotion; then books of morality, much more useful; theological tomes, doubly unintelligible, on account of the matter discussed, and the manner of treatment; and the works of the mystics, that is to say, of passionate-hearted devotees.” “Ah, my father!” said I, “stay a moment; tell me about these mystics.” “Sir,” said he, “devotion warms a heart inclined to passion, and the heat mounting to the brain, produces ecstasies and raptures. This is the delirium of devotion; often it develops, or rather degenerates into quietism; you must know that a quietist is nothing else than a madman, a devotee, and a libertine, all in one.
“There are the casuists, who expose the secrets of the night; who form in their fancy all the monsters which the demon of love can produce, collect them, compare them, and make them the everlasting subject of their thoughts; happy are they, if their hearts do not become accomplices in the many debaucheries they describe with such simplicity and directness!
“You see, sir, that I think freely, and tell you all I think. I am naturally artless, and more so with you who are a stranger, desirous of information, and to know things as they are. If I wished, I could speak of all this with admiration, and be for ever saying, ‘It is divine, it is worthy of all reverence, it is truly marvelous!’ And there would happen one of two things: either I would deceive you, or I would lower myself in your regard.”
There we stopped; some business called away the dervish, and interrupted our conversation till the morrow.
Paris, the 23rd of the moon of Rhamazan, 1719.
# Persian Letters/Letter 139
#### Letter 139

Rica to the Same
Here is an example of conjugal affection, wonderful in any woman, but much more so in a queen. The Queen of Sweden, having quite made up here mind that the prince, her husband, should share the government with her, in order to overcome all difficulties sent to the Assembly a declaration resigning the regency, provided they elected him.
Some sixty years ago or more another queen, called Christina, abdicated the throne in order to devote herself entirely to philosophy. I know not which of these two examples one ought to admire most.
Although I entirely approve of every one maintaining himself firmly in the station in which nature has placed him, and although I cannot praise the weakness of those who, feeling themselves inferior to their position, leave it by what is little short of desertion, yet I am much struck with the magnanimity of these two princesses, which enabled the mind of the one and the heart of the other to rise superior to their fortunes. Christina aspired to knowledge at an age when others think only of enjoyment; and the other wished to enjoy her power only that she might place her entire happiness in the hands of her noble husband.
Paris, the 27th of the moon of Maharram, 1720.
# Poems (Davidson)

POEMS
BY
LUCRETIA MARIA DAVIDSON.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY F. O. C. DARLEY.
EDITED BY M. OLIVER DAVIDSON.
NEW YORK:
PUBLISHED BY HURD AND HOUGHTON.
Cambridge: Riverside Press.
1871,
RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE:
STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY
H. O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY.
CONTENTS.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
# Poems (Kimball)/A Little Lesson

Part III.
To my God-children,
JEANNETTE FRANCES
AND
CHARLES EMERSON.
# Poems (Vadlan)/Foreword

A FOREWORD
Many who will in future years ponder over the poems in this book may see some faults. If so, remember kindly. that by faults and imperfections we catch a glimpse of the more perfect. If, in the time that is to be. these thoughts, planted and grown in the human heart of the writer, give just a longing and hope in the eternity of life, they will have done their work. With this mystic touch that makes the whole world kin, my hope is that inspiration through this little book will come to many lonely, hungry hearts.
—E. Vadlan.
# Poems and Ballads (second series)/Before Sunset

Previously printed in The Examiner, December 26th, 1874, p. 1420.
BEFORE SUNSET.
In the lower lands of day On the hither side of night, There is nothing that will stay, There are all things soft to sight; Lighted shade and shadowy light In the wayside and the way, Hours the sun has spared to smite, Flowers the rain has left to play.
Shall these hours run down and say No good thing of thee and me? Time that made us and will slay Laughs at love in me and thee;
But if here the flowers may see One whole hour of amorous breath, Time shall die, and love shall be Lord as time was over death.
# Poems and Ballads (second series)/Choriambics

CHORIAMBICS.
Love, what ailed thee to leave life that was made lovely,
we thought, with love? What sweet visions of sleep lured thee away, down from
the light above?
What strange faces of dreams, voices that called, hands
that were raised to wave, Lured or led thee, alas, out of the sun, down to the sunless grave?
Ah, thy luminous eyes! once was their light fed with the
fire of day; Now their shadowy lids cover them close, hush them and hide away.
Ah, thy snow-coloured hands! once were they chains, mighty to bind me fast; Now no blood in them burns, mindless of love, senseless of passion past.
Ah, thy beautiful hair! so was it once braided for me,
for me; Now for death is it crowned, only for death, lover and
lord of thee.
[Pg 99]Sweet, the kisses of death set on thy lips, colder are they
than mine; Colder surely than past kisses that love poured for thy
lips as wine.
Lov'st thou death? is his face fairer than love's, brighter
to look upon? Seest thou light in his eyes, light by which love's pales and
is overshone?
Lo, the roses of death, grey as the dust, chiller of leaf than snow! Why let fall from thy hand love's that were thine, roses
that loved thee so?
Large red lilies of love, sceptral and tall, lovely for eyes
to see; Thornless blossom of love, full of the sun, fruits that were
reared for thee.
Now death's poppies alone circle thy hair, girdle thy breasts as white; Bloodless blossoms of death, leaves that have sprung never against the light.
Nay then, sleep if thou wilt; love is content; what should he do to weep? Sweet was love to thee once; now in thine eyes sweeter
than love is sleep.
# Poems and Ballads (second series)/Dedication, 1878

DEDICATION
1878.
Some nine years gone, as we dwelt together In the sweet hushed heat of the south French weather Ere autumn fell on the vine‑tressed hills Or the season had shed one rose‑red feather,
Friend, whose fame is a flame that fills All eyes it lightens and hearts it thrills With joy to be born of the blood which bred From a land that the grey sea girds and chills
The heart and spirit and hand and head Whose might is as light on a dark day shed, On a day now dark as a land's decline Where all the peers of your praise are dead,
In a land and season of corn and vine I pledged you a health from a beaker of mine But halfway filled to the lip's edge yet With hope for honey and song for wine. Nine years have risen and eight years set Since there by the wellspring our hands on it met: And the pledge of my songs that were then to be, I could wonder not, friend, though a friend should forget.
For life's helm rocks to the windward and lee, And time is as wind, and as waves are we; And song is as foam that the sea‑winds fret, Though the thought at its heart should be deep as the sea.
LONDON: PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE AND PARLIAMENT STREET
# Poems and Ballads (second series)/Ballad of the Women of Paris

BALLAD OF THE WOMEN OF PARIS.
Albeit the Venice girls get praise For their sweet speech and tender air, And though the old women have wise ways Of chaffering for amorous ware, Yet at my peril dare I swear, Search Rome, where God's grace mainly tarries, Florence and Savoy, everywhere, There's no good girl's lip out of Paris.
The Naples women, as folk prattle, Are sweetly spoken and subtle enough: German girls are good at tattle, And Prussians make their boast thereof;
Take Egypt for the next remove, Or that waste land the Tartar harries, Spain or Greece, for the matter of love, There's no good girl's lip out of Paris.
Breton and Swiss know nought of the matter, Gascony girls or girls of Toulouse; Two fishwives here with a half‑hour's chatter Would shut them up by threes and twos; Calais, Lorraine, and all their crews, (Names enow the mad song marries) England and Picardy, search them and choose, There's no good girl's lip out of Paris.
Prince, give praise to our French ladies For the sweet sound their speaking carries; 'Twixt Rome and Cadiz many a maid is, But no good girl's lip out of Paris.
# Poems and Ballads (second series)/Ballad written for a Bridegroom

BALLAD WRITTEN FOR A BRIDEGROOM WHICH VILLON GAVE TO A GENTLEMAN NEWLY MARRIED TO SEND TO HIS WIFE WHOM HE HAD WON WITH THE SWORD.
At daybreak, when the falcon claps his wings, No whit for grief, but noble heart and high, With loud glad noise he stirs himself and springs, And takes his meat and toward his lure draws nigh; Such good I wish you! Yea, and heartily I am fired with hope of true love's meed to get; Know that Love writes it in his book; for why, This is the end for which we twain are met.
Mine own heart's lady with no gainsayings You shall be always wholly till I die; And in my right against all bitter things Sweet laurel with fresh rose its force shall try;
Seeing reason wills not that I cast love by (Nor here with reason shall I chide or fret) Nor cease to serve, but serve more constantly; This is the end for which we twain are met.
And, which is more, when grief about me clings Through Fortune's fit or fume of jealousy, Your sweet kind eye beats down her threatenings As wind doth smoke; such power sits in your eye. Thus in your field my seed of harvestry Thrives, for the fruit is like me that I set; God bids me tend it with good husbandry; This is the end for which we twain are met.
Princess, give ear to this my summary; That heart of mine your heart's love should forget Shall never be: like trust in you put I: This is the end for which we twain are met.
# Poems and Ballads (second series)/Epistle in form of a Ballad to his Friends

EPISTLE IN FORM OF A BALLAD TO HIS FRIENDS.
Have pity, pity, friends, have pity on me, Thus much at least, may it please you, of your grace! I lie not under hazel or hawthorn‑tree Down in this dungeon ditch, mine exile's place By leave of God and fortune's foul disgrace. Girls, lovers, glad young folk and newly wed, Jumpers and jugglers, tumbling heel o'er head, Swift as a dart, and sharp as needle‑ware, Throats clear as bells that ring the kine to shed, Your poor old friend, what, will you leave him there?
Singers that sing at pleasure, lawlessly, Light, laughing, gay of word and deed, that race
And run like folk light‑witted as ye be And have in hand nor current coin nor base, Ye wait too long, for now he's dying apace. Rhymers of lays and roundels sung and read, Ye'll brew him broth too late when he lies dead. Nor wind nor lightning, sunbeam nor fresh air, May pierce the thick wall's bound where lies his bed; Your poor old friend, what, will you leave him there?
O noble folk from tithes and taxes free, Come and behold him in this piteous case, Ye that nor king nor emperor holds in fee, But only God in heaven; behold his face Who needs must fast, Sundays and holidays, Which makes his teeth like rakes; and when he hath fed With never a cake for banquet but dry bread, Must drench his bowels with much cold watery fare, With board nor stool, but low on earth instead; Your poor old friend, what, will you leave him there?
Princes afore‑named, old and young foresaid, Get me the king's seal and my pardon sped, And hoist me in some basket up with care: So swine will help each other ill bested, For where one squeaks they run in heaps ahead. Your poor old friend, what, will you leave him there?
# Poems and Ballads (second series)/Child's Song

CHILD'S SONG.
What is gold worth, say, Worth for work or play, Worth to keep or pay, Hide or throw away, Hope about or fear? What is love worth, pray? Worth a tear?
Golden on the mould Lie the dead leaves rolled Of the wet woods old, Yellow leaves and cold, Woods without a dove; Gold is worth but gold; Love's worth love.
# Poems and Ballads (second series)/Cyril Tourneur

CYRIL TOURNEUR.
A sea that heaves with horror of the night, As maddened by the moon that hangs aghast With strain and torment of the ravening blast, Haggard as hell, a bleak blind bloody light; No shore but one red reef of rock in sight, Whereon the waifs of many a wreck were cast And shattered in the fierce nights overpast Wherein more souls toward hell than heaven took flight; And 'twixt the shark‑toothed rocks and swallowing shoals A cry as out of hell from all these souls Sent through the sheer gorge of the slaughtering sea, Whose thousand throats, full‑fed with life by death, Fill the black air with foam and furious breath; And over all these one star—Chastity.
# Poems and Ballads (second series)/Epicede

Previously printed in The Athenæum, June 10th, 1876, p. 794.
EPICEDE.
(James Lorimer Graham died at Florence, April 30, 1876.)
Life may give for love to death Little; what are life's gifts worth To the dead wrapt round with earth? Yet from lips of living breath Sighs or words we are fain to give, All that yet, while yet we live, Life may give for love to death.
Dead so long before his day, Passed out of the Italian sun To the dark where all is done, Fallen upon the verge of May,
Here at life's and April's end How should song salute my friend Dead so long before his day?
Not a kindlier life or sweeter Time, that lights and quenches men, Now may quench or light again, Mingling with the mystic metre Woven of all men's lives with his Not a clearer note than this, Not a kindlier life or sweeter.
In this heavenliest part of earth He that living loved the light, Light and song, may rest aright, One in death, if strange in birth, With the deathless dead that make Life the lovelier for their sake In this heavenliest part of earth.
Light, and song, and sleep at last— Struggling hands and suppliant knees Get no goodlier gift than these. Song that holds remembrance fast, Light that lightens death, attend Round their graves who have to friend Light, and song, and sleep at last.
# Poems (Ryan)/There's None

POEMS.
# Poems (Sackville)

POEMS
POEMS
BY
LADY MARGARET SACKVILLE
JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD
LONDON AND NEW YORK
1901
COLSTON AND COY. LIMITED, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH
TO
MY SISTER
I have to thank the Editor of The Argosy for permission to reprint the Sonnets entitled 'Nightfall,' and the Editor of Literature for the same courtesy with regard to 'Weakness.'
CONTENTS
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
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
# Philip Brady v. Bernard & Kittinger/Opinion of the Court

* Court Documents
* Case Syllabus
* Opinion of the Court
United States Supreme Court
217 U.S. 595
Philip Brady v. Bernard & Kittinger
Mr. Hill McAllister for appellants.
Messrs. Edwin C. Brandenburg, Clarence A. Brandenburg, and F. Walter Brandenburg for appellees.
Appeal dismissed for the want of jurisdiction, and petition for Writ of Certiorari denied.

## 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
# Philebus

is a Socratic dialogue written in the 4th century BC by Plato. Besides Socrates (the main speaker) the other interlocutors are Philebus and Protarchus. Philebus, who advocates the life of physical pleasure (hedonism), hardly participates, and his position is instead defended by Protarchus, who learnt argumentation from Sophists.
English-language translations of el:Φίληβος include:
* Philebus, trans. by Floyer Sydenham (1804, c. 1779-80) (transcription project)
* Philebus, trans. by George Burges (1851) (transcription project)
* Philebus, trans. by Edward Poste (1860) (transcription project)
* Passages from Philebus, trans. by Georgiana Chatterton (1862) (transcription project)
* Philebus, trans. by William Whewell (1860) (transcription project)
* Philebus, trans. by F. A. Paley (1873) (transcription project)
* Philebus, trans. by Benjamin Jowett (1892)
* Philebus, trans. by Robert Gregg Bury (1897) (transcription project)
* Philebus, trans. by H. F. Carlill (1906) (transcription project)
# Philemon

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Philemon."
* 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.
* Philemon, a book of the Bible
* "Philemon, Epistle to," in Easton's Bible Dictionary (1897)
* "Philemon," in Easton's Bible Dictionary (1897)
* "Philemon," in Catholic Encyclopedia, (ed.) by Charles G. Herbermann and others, New York: The Encyclopaedia Press (1913)
* "Philemon (poet)," in The New International Encyclopædia, New York: Dodd, Mead and Co. (1905)
# Philemon (Bible)

Philemon is a book in the Bible.
English-language translations of Pros Philemona include:
* "Filemon" in the Wycliffe version of the Bible (1380s)
* "Philemon" in the Tyndale version of the Bible (1526)
* "Philemon" in the Bishops' version of the Bible (1568)
* "Philemon" in the King James version of the Bible (1611)
* "Philemon" in the American Standard version of the Bible (1901)
* "Philemon" in the World English version (in progress since 1997)
* "Philemon" in the Wikisource version (in progress since 2006)
* "Philemon" in the Literal Standard Version of the Bible (2020)

## Translation Comparison

Bible/Philemon/1
Old Testament
* Genesis
* Exodus
* Leviticus
* Numbers
* Deuteronomy
* Joshua
* Judges
* Ruth
* 1 Samuel
* 2 Samuel
* 1 Kings
* 2 Kings
* 1 Chronicles
* 2 Chronicles
* Ezra
* Nehemiah
* Esther
* Job
* Psalms
* Proverbs
* Ecclesiastes
* Song of Solomon
* Isaiah
* Jeremiah
* Lamentations
* Ezekiel
* Daniel
* Hosea
* Joel
* Amos
* Obadiah
* Jonah
* Micah
* Nahum
* Habakkuk
* Zephaniah
* Haggai
* Zechariah
* Malachi
Deuterocanon/Apocrypha
* 1 Esdras
* 2 Esdras
* Tobit
* Judith
* Additions to Esther
* Wisdom of Solomon
* Susanna
* Syrach
* Baruch
* Letter of Jeremiah
* Additions to Daniel
* Prayer of Manasses
* 1 Maccabees
* 2 Maccabees
* 3 Maccabees
* 4 Maccabees
* 5 Maccabees
* 6 Maccabees
* 7 Maccabees
* 8 Maccabees
* Psalms of Solomon
* Odes
* Enoch
* Jubilees
* 1 Meqabyan
* 2 Meqabyan
* 3 Meqabyan
* Additions to Baruch
* 1 Clement
* 2 Clement
* Acts of Philip
* Acts of Pilate
* Laodiceans
* Apocalypse of Peter
New Testament
* Matthew
* Mark
* Luke
* John
* Acts
* Romans
* 1 Corinthians
* 2 Corinthians
* Galatians
* Ephesians
* Philippians
* Colossians
* 1 Thessalonians
* 2 Thessalonians
* 1 Timothy
* 2 Timothy
* Titus
* Philemon
* Hebrews
* James
* 1 Peter
* 2 Peter
* 1 John
* 2 John
* 3 John
* Jude
* Revelation
# Philip Brady v. Bernard & Kittinger

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
217 U.S. 595
Philip Brady v. Bernard & Kittinger

## 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
# Poet Lore/Volume 26/Number 1/The Book of the Hours

From the collection Das Stundenbuch (The Book of Hours) (1899–1903)
Layout 2
THE BOOK OF THE HOURS
By Rainer Maria Rilke
Translated by Sasha Best
Thus doth bend to me the hour With clear metallic sound; My senses are trembling, I feel my power, And I seize the plastic day's round.
Naught was complete ere I saw it And all creation stood still; My eyes are ripe, like a bride to be,— To ev’ry one cometh the thing of his will.
Naught is too small but I love it well, And paint it large on golden ground, And I hold it high, for I cannot foretell Whose soul thereby will be unbound.
I live my life in circles that grow, And are drawn over things that be; The last mayhap I must ever forego, But strive to reach it I may.
I turn about God; round the ancient tower’s form On æons and æons I am borne along; And I know not yet, am I falcon or storm, Or one great song.
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
# Poet Lore/Volume 26/Number 2/My Battle-Cry

The first stanza is a translation of the motto from the collection Mir zur Feier (1899) and the second stanza is a translation of the poem Mir from the collection Advent (1898)
Layout 2
MY BATTLE-CRY
By Rainer Maria Rilke
Translated by Sasha Best
Longing? To live in the surge Without a resting-place in time. Wishes? Soft communions Of the poor hours with Eternity. And this is Life!—till cut of a constellation The loneliest of all the hours doth rise, That with a smile unlike her other sisters, Mutely gazes at the Everlasting.
This is my Battle-cry: That I May roam through Time By noblest longing consecrated. Then broad and strong, With a thousand roots, Fasten deep into Life, And through sorrow and strife, Grow far out of Life, Far out of Time.
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
# Poet Lore/Volume 26

Layout 4
A Magazine of Letters
EDITED BY
CHARLOTTE PORTER AND HELEN A. CLARKE
VOLUME XXVI
JANUARY—DECEMBER, 1915
BOSTON THE POET LORE COMPANY 1915
New Year's number Spring number Summer number Vacation number Autumn number Winter number
INDEX TO VOLUME XXVI
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
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
# Poems of Mr. John Milton, Both English and Latin, Compos'd at several times/Arcades

Arcades.