OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Thom's Irish Who's Who/Comyn, Lieut.-Col. Lewis James

​COMYN, Lieut.-Col. Lewis James, youngest son of the late Andrew Comyn, Ballinderry, Kilconnell. Co. Galway. Educ.: Clongowes Wood College and T.C.D. Joined the Connaught Rangers ia 1898; promoted Major in 1915, and Brevet Lieut.-Col. the same year. Served in France during the War, being several times mentioned in despatches and receiving the C.M.G., D.S.O., and Legion of Honour; b. March 13th, 1878; m. 21st Oct., 1914, Esther Mary, dau. of the late Laurence Egan and of Mrs. de Courcy Duff, Riversdale, Monkstown, Co. Dublin. Issue two sons and one dau. Recns.: hunting, polo, cricket, etc. Naval and Military Club, 94 Piccadilly, London.
# Thom's Irish Who's Who/Concanon, Lieut.-Col. Edmond George

​CONCANON, Lieut.-Col. Edmond George, D.S.O. (1900); is a Member of London Stock Exchange; Lieut.-Col. Territorial Force Reserve: served in S. Africa, 1899-1900, with Mounted Infantry of City of London Imperial Vol.: commanded Batts. of London Regt.. 1913-18 and 1919-20; son of James Blake Concanon, of Co. Galway; b. 1875: m. 1901, Bertha Beckford Syvet, only dau. of T. Gosselin, of Bagot, Jersey. Res.: Rockfield, Athenry, Co. Galway; Ranelagh; and Badminton Clubs, London.
# Thom's Irish Who's Who/Colthurst, Sir George St. John

​COLTHURST, Sir George St. John, Bart. (Irld.. 1744); formerly in the 43rd Foot, and A.D.C. to the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland: D.L., J.P. for Co. Cork: only son of Sir George Conway, M.P., 5th Bart., and Louisa Jane, only dau of St. John Jefferyes, of Blarney Castle, Co. Cork: b. 18.50; s. his father, 24th Sept., 1878; m. 27th Aug., 1881, Edith, dau. of the late Capt. J. Morris, 1st Royals, of Dun kettle, Co. Cork, and has issue two sons. Res.: The Castle, Blarney; Ardrum, Inniscarra, Co. Cork Naval and Military, and Carlton Clubs, London.
# Thom's Irish Who's Who/Colomb, Rupert Palmer

​COLOMB, Rupert Palmer, D.L., J.P., Co. Kerry; only son of late Rt. Hon. Sir John Chas. Ready Colomb, P.C. (Irel.), K.C.M.G., of Dromquinna and Dunkerron, Co. Kerry, M.P., D.L., J.P.; b. 1869; m. 1904. Mabel Louisa, eldest dau. of John Murray Mordaunt, D.L., J.P., and granddau. of Sir John Mordaunt, 9th Bart. Res.: Dromquinna, Kenmare, Co. Kerry; 7 Cheyne Place London, S.W. 3.
# Thom's Irish Who's Who/Colvill, Robert Frederick Stewart

​COLVILL, Robert Frederick Stewart, J.P., Co. Dublin (High Sheriff, 1910); Director of the Bank of Ireland (Governor, 1916-18); second surviving son of James Chaigneau Colvill. of Coolock House; b, 4th Aug., 1860; m. 1891, Sophia, 6th dau. of George Maconchy, of Rathmore, Co. Longford, and has issue 3 sons. Res.: Coolock House, Co. Dublin. Clubs: Kildare Street, Dublin; Royal St. George Yacht Club, Kingstown.
# Thom's Irish Who's Who/Colvin, Ven. William Evans

​COLVIN, Ven. William Evans, M.A. (T.C.D.); Incumbent of Dromard since 1895; Archdeacon of Killala, 1911. Ordained 1889; Curate of Killoran, 1889-91; St. James's, Didsbury, 1891-93; Wotton, Surrey, 1893-95; m. 1895, Amy, dau. of Robert Drysdale Turner, Hampstead, N.W. Res.: Beltra Rectory, Ballisodare, Co. Sligo.
# Thom's Irish Who's Who/Compton, John

​COMPTON, John, D.L., Chairman of Armagh County Council; Proprietor of John Compton, Ltd., Umgola, Armagh, manufacturer of Damask Table Cloths, Napkins and Towels. Recns.: Golf and tennis. Res,: Umgola, Armagh.
# Thom's Irish Who's Who/Comyn, Nicholas O'Connell

​COMYN, Nicholas O'Connell; b. 19th June, 1869; eldest son of late Andrew Nugent Comyn. Educ.: Oscott College, Birmingham, and T.C.D.; served in the S. A. War, 1899-1901, and in the Transvaal Mounted Police, 1901-1908. Recns.: hunting, shooting; J.P., Co. Galway; High Sheriff, Co. Galway, 1917; m. 1911, Mary Cecilia, elder dau. of Francis W. Mahony, Blarney, and has issue four sons and two daus. Res.: Ballinderry, Kilconnell.
# Thom's Irish Who's Who/Colohan, Hugh

​COLOHAN, Hugh (MP. for Cos. Kildare and Wicklow from 1922); Member Kildare Co. Council; Vice-Chairman Kildare Co. Board of Health; Chairman Naas No. 1 Rural District Council; Member of Droichead Nua Town Commissioners.
# Thom's Irish Who's Who/Colum, Padraic

​COLUM, Padraic; b. in Longford, Dec, 1881. Educ. in National Schools; m. 1912, Mary Catherine Maguire. Pubns.: The Land: The Fiddler's House: Thomas Muskerry (produced at the Abbey Theatre); Mogu the Wanderer; Wild Earth (Poems); My Irish Year; A Boy in Eirinn; The Adventures of Odysseus and the Tale of Troy: The Children of Odin: The King of Ireland's Son; The Golden Fleece; The Boy who Knew What the Birds Said; The Girl who Sat by the Ashes; The Boy Apprenticed to an Enchanter; the Children who Followed the Piper; Dramatic Legends and Shorter Poems. Visited America, 1914; lectured and contributed to American Reviews and Magazines. Address: Dublin c/o The Abbey Theatre. New York: c/o The MacMillan Co., Publishers, 64-66 Fifth Avenue.
# The Works of H. G. Wells (Atlantic Edition)/The Invisible Man/Chapter 8

VIII
IN TRANSIT
The eighth chapter is exceedingly brief, and relates that Gibbins, the amateur naturalist of the district, while lying out on the spacious open downs without a soul within a couple of miles of him, as he thought, and almost dozing, heard close to him the sound as of a man coughing, sneezing, and then swearing savagely to himself; and looking, beheld nothing. Yet the voice was indisputable. It continued to swear with that breadth and variety that distinguishes the swearing of a cultivated man. It grew to a climax, diminished again, and died away in the distance, going as it seemed to him in the direction of Adderdean. It lifted to a spasmodic sneeze and ended. Gibbins had heard nothing of the morning's occurrences, but the phenomenon was so striking and disturbing that his philosophical tranquillity vanished; he got up hastily, and hurried down the steepness of the hill towards the village, as fast as he could go.
# Through the Wall

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Through the Wall."
* 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.
* Through the Wall, a book by Cleveland Moffett (1909) IA
* "Through the Wall", a short story by I. A. R. Wylie (1910)
# Through the Window

"Through the window Love looked in"
* Coates, Florence Earle (1912), "Through the Window" in The Unconquered Air, and Other Poems (1912).
* Coates, Florence Earle (1916), "Through the Window" in Poems I.
# Three Stories/Poldik the Scavenger

Poldik the Scavenger.
* Chapter 1
* Chapter 2
* Chapter 3
* Chapter 4
* Chapter 5
* Chapter 6
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/The Lovely Night

THE LOVELY NIGHT.
From the cot, where softly sleeping Lies my bosom's love, I go, And with noiseless footstep creeping, Thread the dusty wood, when lo! Bursts the moon through glade and greenwood, Soft the herald zephyrs play, And the waving birches sprinkle Sweetest incense on my way.
How I revel in the coolness Of this beauteous summer night Stilly dreaming here the fulness Of the panting soul's delight! ​Words can paint not what my bliss is, Yet, kind heaven, I'd yield to thee Nights a thousand, fair as this is, Would my love give one to me!
LOVE'S DREAM.
Thou oft in dreams hast seen us stand Before the altar hand in hand, Thyself the bride, the bridegroom I. Oft on thy lips, when none were watching, I've hung, unnumbered kisses snatching, In hours of waking ecstasy.
The purest rapture that we cherished, The bliss of hours so golden, perished Even with the hour that saw it rise. What reck that mine have been such blisses? Fleeting as dreams are fondest kisses, And like a kiss all pleasure dies.
LIVING REMEMBRANCE.
Half vexed, half pleased, thy love will feel, Shouldst thou her knot or ribbon steal; To thee they're much—I won't conceal; Such self-deceit may pardoned be; A veil, a kerchief, garter, rings, In truth are no more trifling things, But still they're not enough for me.
She who is dearest to my heart, Gave me, with well dissembled smart, Of her own life a living part, No charm in aught beside I trace;
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/The Loving One Once More

THE LOVING ONE ONCE MORE.
Why do I o'er my paper once more bend? Ask not too closely, dearest one, I pray: For, to speak truth, I've nothing now to say; Yet to thy hands at length 'twill come, dear friend.
Since I can come not with it, what I send My undivided heart shall now convey, With all its joys, hopes, pleasures, pains, to-day: All this hath no beginning, hath no end.
Henceforward I may ne'er to thee confide How, far as thought, wish, fancy, will, can reach, My faithful heart with thine is surely blended. Thus stood I once enraptured by thy side, Gazed on thee, and said nought. What need of speech? My very being itself was ended.
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/The Goldsmith's Apprentice

THE GOLDSMITH'S APPRENTICE
My neighbour, none can e'er deny, Is a most beauteous maid; Her shop is ever in mine eye, When working at my trade.
To ring and chain I hammer then The wire of gold assayed, And think the while: "For Kate, oh, when Will such a ring be made?"
And when she takes her shutters down, Her shop at once invade, To buy and haggle, all the town, For all that's there displayed.
I file, and maybe overfile The wire of gold assayed, My master grumbles all the while,— Her shop the mischief made.
To ply her wheel she straight begins When not engaged in trade; I know full well for what she spins,— 'Tis hope guides that dear maid.
Her leg, while her small foot treads on, Is in my mind portrayed; Her garter I recall anon,— I gave it that dear maid.
Then to her lips the finest thread Is by her hand conveyed. Were I there only in its stead, How I would kiss the maid!
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/The King of Thule

Translation by Bayard Taylor of "Der König in Thule" (1774); see also Theodore Martin's translation "The King of Thule."
THE KING OF THULE.
[This ballad is also introduced in "Faust," where it is sung by Margaret.]
There was a king in Thule, Was faithful till the grave, To whom his mistress, dying, A golden goblet gave.
Nought was to him more precious; He drained it at every bout; His eyes with tears ran over, As oft as he drank thereout.
When came his time of dying, The towns in his land he told, Nought else to his heir denying Except the goblet of gold.
He sat at the royal banquet With his knights of high degree, In the lofty hall of his father In the castle by the sea.
There stood the old carouser, And drank the last life-glow; And hurled the hallowed goblet Into the tide below.
He saw it plunging and filling, And sinking deep in the sea: Then fell his eyelids for ever, And never more drank he!
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/The Godlike

THE GODLIKE.
Noble be man, Helpful and good! For that alone Distinguisheth him From all the beings Unto us known.
Hail to the beings, Unknown and glorious, Whom we forebode! From his example ​Learn we to know them! For unfeeling Nature is ever.
On bad and on good The sun alike shineth; And on the wicked, As on the best, The moon and stars gleam.
Tempest and torrent, Thunder and hail, Roar on their path, Seizing the while, As they haste onward, One after another.
Even so, fortune Gropes 'mid the throng— Innocent boyhood's Curly head seizing,— Seizing the hoary Head of the sinner.
After laws mighty, Brazen, eternal, Must all we mortals Finish the circuit Of our existence.
Man, and man only Can do the impossible; He 'tis distinguisheth, Chooseth and judgeth; He to the moment Endurance can lend.
​He and he only The good can reward, The bad can he punish, Can heal and can save; All that wanders and strays Can usefully blend.
And we pay homage To the immortals As though they were men, And did in the great, What the best, in the small, Does or might do.
Be the man that is noble, Both helpful and good, Unwearily forming The right and the useful, A type of those beings Our mind hath foreshadowed.
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/The Happy Couple

THE HAPPY COUPLE.
After these vernal rains That we so warmly sought, Dear wife, see how our plains With blessings sweet are fraught! We cast our distant gaze Far in the misty blue; Here gentle love still strays, Here dwells still rapture true.
Thou see'st whither go Yon pair of pigeons white, Where swelling violets blow Round sunny foliage bright. 'Twas there we gathered first A nosegay as we roved; There into flame first burst The passion that we proved.
Yet when, with plighted troth. The priest beheld us fare. ​Home from the altar both, With many a youthful pair,— Then other moons had birth, And many a beauteous sun, Then we had gained the earth Whereon life's race to run.
A hundred thousand fold The mighty bond was sealed; In woods, on mountains cold, In bushes, in the field, Within the wall, in caves, And on the craggy height, And love, e'en o'er the waves, Bore in his tube the light.
Contented we remained, We deemed ourselves a pair; 'Twas otherwise ordained, For, lo! a third was there; A fourth, fifth, sixth appeared, And sat around our board; And now the plants we've reared High o'er our heads have soared.
How fair and pleasant looks, On yonder beauteous spot, Embraced by poplar-brooks, The newly finished cot! Who is it there that sits In that glad home above? Is't not our darling Fritz With his own darling love?
Beside yon precipice, Whence pent-up waters steal, ​And, leaving the abyss, Fall foaming through the wheel,— Though people often tell Of millers' wives so fair, Yet none can e'er excel Our dearest daughter there!
Yet where the thick-set green Stands round yon church and sod, Where the old fir-tree's seen Alone tow'rd heaven to nod,— 'Tis there the ashes lie Of our untimely dead; From earth our gaze on high By their blest memory's led.
See how yon hill is bright With billowy-waving arms! The force returns, whose might Has vanquished war's alarms. Who proudly hastens here With wreath-encircled brow? 'Tis like our child so dear!— Thus Charles comes homeward now.
That dearest honoured guest Is welcomed by the bride; She makes the true one blest, At the glad festal tide. And every one makes haste To join the dance with glee; While thou with wreaths hast graced The youngest children three.
To sound of flute and horn The time appears renewed, ​When we, in love's young morn, In the glad dance upstood; And perfect bliss I know Ere the year's course is run, For to the font we go With grandson and with son!
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/The Husbandman

THE HUSBANDMAN.
Lightly doth the furrow fold the golden grain within its breast, Deeper shroud, old man, shall cover in thy limbs when laid at rest. Blithely plough, and sow as blithely! Here are springs of mortal cheer, And when e'en the grave is closing, Hope is ever standing near.
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/The Legend of the Horseshoe

THE LEGEND OF THE HORSESHOE.
When still unknown, and low as well, Our Lord upon the earth did dwell, And many disciples with him went Who seldom knew what his words meant, He was extremely fond of holding His court in the market-place, unfolding The highest precepts to their hearing, With holy mouth and heart unfolding; For man, in Heaven's face when preaching, Adds freedom's strength unto his teaching! ​By parables and by example, He made each market-place a temple. He thus in peace of mind one day To some small town with them did stray, Saw something glitter in the street, A broken horseshoe lay at his feet. He then to Peter turned and said: "Pick up that iron in my stead." St. Peter out of humour was, Having in dreams indulged because All men on thoughts so like to dwell, How they the world would govern well; Here fancy revels without bounds; On this his dearest thoughts he founds. This treasure-trove he quite despised, But crowned sceptre he'd have prized; And why should he now bend his back To put old iron in his sack? He turned aside with outward show As though he heard none speaking so!
The Lord, to his long-suffering true, Himself picked up the horse's shoe, And of it made no further mention, But to the town walked with intention Of going to a blacksmith's door, Who gave one farthing for his store. And now, when through the market strolling, Cherries some one he heard extolling. Of these he bought as few or many As farthing buys, if it buy any, Which he, in wonted peacefulness, Gently within his sleeve did press.
Now out at t'other gate they'd gone Past fields and meadows, houses none; ​The road likewise of trees was bare, The sun shone bright with ardent glare, So that great price, in plain thus stretched, A drink of water would have fetched. The Lord, walking before them all, Let unawares a cherry fall. St. Peter ate it, then and there, As though a golden apple it were. He relished much the luscious fruit. The Lord, whenever time would suit, Another cherry forward sent, For which St. Peter swiftly bent. The Lord thus often and again After the cherries made him strain. When this had lasted quite awhile, The Lord spoke thus with cheerful smile: "If thou hadst stirred when first I bade thee, More comfortable 'twould have made thee; Whoe'er small things too much disdains, For smaller ones takes greater pains."
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/The Loving One Writes

Consistent with the original work, this page also contains an untitled couplet.
THE LOVING ONE WRITES.
The look that thy sweet eyes on mine impress, The pledge thy lips to mine convey,—the kiss,— He who, like me, hath knowledge sure of this, Can he in aught beside find happiness?
Removed from thee, friend-severed, in distress, These thoughts I vainly struggle to dismiss They still return to that one hour of bliss, The only one; then tears my grief confess.
​But unawares the tear makes haste to dry: He loves, methinks, e'en to those glades so still,— And shalt not thou to distant lands extend? Receive the murmurs of this loving sigh; My only joy on earth is in thy will, Thy kindly will tow'rd me; a token send!
Lovingly I'll sing of love; Ever comes she from above.
# To My Little Blanid

I told her a story, a fairy story, My little daughter with eyes of blue And with clear, wide gaze as the splendours brightened, She always asked me—'Oh, is it true?'
Always that word when the wonder reached her, She pictured beauty so grand and new — When the good were paid and the evil punished, Still, with soft insistence—'Is it true?'
Ah, late, drear knowledge from sin and sorrow, How will you answer and answer true, Her wistful doubt of the happy ending? — Wise child! I wondered how much she knew.
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
# To My Mistress

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "To My Mistress."
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* To My Mistress, a poem by Jonathon Swift
* To My Mistress, a poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
# To My Lady

* information about this edition.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
Songs of the Road (1922, edition of Doyle's collected poems with added texts)
"Which of these four," the Angel said,
Will be your life-long choice,
The maiden with the kindest heart.
Or with the sweetest voice,
Or she who has the dearest form,
With every gentle grace,
Or she who shows the noblest soul
Upon the loveliest face?"
Lost in deepest thought I sat.
And viewed these maidens four.
And first chose this and then chose that,
And doubted more and more;
A kindly heart is treasure trove,
A perfect voice is rare,
A graceful form is Heaven's gift
And so is beauty rare.
The Angel laughed to see my doubt
And laid his hand on me.
He smoothed the puzzled wrinkles out,
"I'll set it right," said he,
"Each of the four you wish as mate;
Since that can not be done.
This lady saves you all debate.
By being all in one."
# To My Dear and Loving Husband

If ever two were one, then surely we. If ever man were loved by wife, then thee; If ever wife was happy in a man, Compare with me, ye women, if you can.
I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold, Or all the riches that the East doth hold. My love is such that rivers cannot quench, Nor ought but love from thee give recompence.
Thy love is such I can no way repay; The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray. Then while we live, in love let's so persever[e], That when we live no more, we may live ever.
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
# To My Excellent Lucasia, On Our Friendship

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
I did not live until this time Crown'd my felicity, When I could say without a crime, I am not thine, but thee.
This carcass breath'd, and walkt, and slept, So that the world believe'd There was a soul the motions kept; But they were all deceiv'd.
For as a watch by art is wound To motion, such was mine: But never had Orinda found A soul till she found thine;
Which now inspires, cures and supplies, And guides my darkened breast: For thou art all that I can prize, My joy, my life, my rest.
No bridegroom's nor crown-conqueror's mirth To mine compar'd can be: They have but pieces of the earth, I've all the world in thee.
Then let our flames still light and shine, And no false fear controul, As innocent as our design, Immortal as our soul.