OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Elemoont/Chapter 3

in which the Hunter announces he is the Hunter-for-Elephants and the Moon’s Elephants are angry with him.
"To the Moon!" exclaimed the Hunter, "It's impossible!" He stood up, shook himself, loudly sneezed, and looked around. Good gracious! Huge lunar elephants stood around and attentively examined the Hunter.
"It's very interesting," said at last the elephants, "Who are you, and why do you fill the space with dust?"
But you have to raise dust if you fell on the Moon! "I'm the hunter," said the Hunter and thought, "It's desirable to intimidate them, otherwise they will trample me down!" And he added, "The Hunter–for–Elephants!"
"Well," said the elephants and thought, «It’s desirable to give a good lesson to that boaster," but they said aloud, «Welcome to the Moon!" And the oldest elephant that was like a gigantic silver mountain said, "If you are the Hunter - for - Elephants, you'll, probably, meet with joy the Elephants–for–Hunters. We have several such elephants. Ask them here!" Immediately another elephant that was a little smaller put his trunk into his mouth and deafeningly whistled. A rumble was heard, and the lunar ground shook under the Hunter's feet. A cloud of dust heaved in sight over distant craters. "Run away!" cried the very little elephant and the elephants scattered in all directions. The Hunter was left alone.
# The Forest Sanctuary, and Other Poems/The Messenger Bird

THE MESSENGER-BIRD.
Some of the native Brazilians pay great veneration to a certain bird that sings mournfully in the night-time. They say it is a messenger which their deceased friends and relations have sent, and that it brings them news from the other world. See Picart's Ceremonies and Religious Customs.
Thou art come from the spirits' land, thou bird!  Thou art come from the spirits' land! Through the dark pine-grove let thy voice be heard,  And tell of the shadowy band!
We know that the bowers are green and fair  In the light of that summer shore, And we know that the friends we have lost are there,  They are there—and they weep no more!
And we know they have quench'd their fever's thirst  From the Fountain of Youth ere now*, For there must the stream in its freshness burst,  Which none may find below!
And we know that they will not be lur'd to earth  From the land of deathless flowers, By the feast, or the dance, or the song of mirth,  Though their hearts were once with ours;
Though they sat with us by the night-fire's blaze,  And bent with us the bow, And heard the tales of our fathers' days,  Which are told to others now!
But tell us, thou bird of the solemn strain!  Can those who have lov'd forget? We call—and they answer not again—  —Do they love—do they love us yet?
Doth the warrior think of his brother there,  And the father of his child? And the chief, of those that were wont to share  His wanderings through the wild?
We call them far through the silent night,  And they speak not from cave or hill; We know, thou bird! that their land is bright,  But say, do they love there still?
# The Forest Sanctuary, and Other Poems/The Vassal's Lament for the fallen Tree

THE VASSAL'S LAMENT FOR THE FALLEN TREE.
"Here (at Brereton in Cheshire) is one thing incredibly strange, but attested, as I myself have heard, by many persons, and commonly believed. Before any heir of this family dies, there are seen, in a lake adjoining, the bodies of trees swimming on the water for several days." Camden's Britannia.
Yes! I have seen the ancient oak  On the dark deep water cast,  And it was not fell'd by the woodman's stroke,  Or the rush of the sweeping blast; For the axe might never touch that tree, And the air was still as a summer-sea.
I saw it fall, as falls a chief  By an arrrow in the fight,  And the old woods shook, to their loftiest leaf,  At the crashing of its might! And the startled deer to their coverts flew, And the spray of the lake as a fountain's flew!
 'Tis fall'n! but think thou not I weep  For the forest's pride o'erthrown:  An old man's tears lie far too deep,  To be pour'd for this alone! But by that sign too well I know, That a youthful head must soon be low!
 A youthful head, with its shining hair,  And its bright quick-flashing eye—  —Well may I weep! for the boy is fair,  Too fair a thing to die! But on his brow the mark is set— Oh! could my life redeem him yet!
 He bounded by me as I gazed  Alone on the fatal sign.
And it seem'd like sunshine when he rais'd  His joyous glance to mine! With a stag's fleet step he bounded by, So full of life—but he must die!
 He must, he must! in that deep dell,  By that dark water's side,  'Tis known that ne'er a proud tree fell,  But an heir of his fathers died. And he—there 's laughter in his eye, Joy in his voice—yet he must die!
 I've borne him in these arms, that now  Are nerveless and unstrung;  And must I see, on that fair brow,  The dust untimely flung? I must!—yon green oak, branch and crest, Lies floating on the dark lake's breast!
 The noble boy!—how proudly sprung  The falcon from his hand!  It seem'd like youth to see him young,  A flower in his father's land!
But the hour of the knell and the dirge is nigh, For the tree hath fall'n, and the flower must die.
 Say not 'tis vain!—I tell thee, some  Are warn'd by a meteor's light.  Or a pale bird flitting calls them home,  Or a voice on the winds by night; And they must go!—and he too, he— —Woe for the fall of the glorious Tree!
# The Forest Sanctuary, and Other Poems/The Stranger in Louisiana

THE STRANGER IN LOUISIANA.
An early traveller mentions a people on the banks of the Mississippi who burst into tears at the sight of a stranger. The reason of this is, that they fancy their deceased friends and relations to be only gone on a journey, and being in constant expectation of their return, look for them vainly amongst these foreign travellers. Picart's Ceremonies and Religious Customs.
"J'ai passe moi-même," says Chateaubriand in his Souvenirs d'Amerique, "chez une peuplade indienne qui se prenait à pleurer à la vue d'un voyageur, parce qu'il lui rappelait des amis partis pour la Contrée des Ames, et depuis long-tems en voyage."
We saw thee, O stranger, and wept! We look'd for the youth of the sunny glance. Whose step was the fleetest in chase or dance! The light of his eye was a joy to see, The path of his arrows a storm to flee! But there came a voice from a distant shore: He was call'd—he is found 'midst his tribe no more!
He is not in his place when the night-fires burn, But we look for him still—he will yet return! —His brother sat with a drooping brow In the gloom of the shadowing cypress bough, We rous'd him—we bade him no longer pine, For we heard a step—but the step was thine.
We saw thee, O stranger, and wept! We Iook'd for the maid of the mournful song, Mournful, though sweet—she hath left us long! We told her the youth of her love was gone, And she went forth to seek him—she pass'd alone; We hear not her voice when the woods are still, From the bower where it sang, like a silvery rill. The joy of her sire with her smile is fled, The winter is white on his lonely head, He hath none by his side when the wilds we track, He hath none when we rest—yet she comes not back! We look'd for her eye on the feast to shine, For her breezy step—but the step was thine!
We saw thee, O stranger, and wept! We look'd for the chief who hath left the spear And the bow of his battles forgotten here!
We look'd for the hunter, whose bride's lament On the wind of the forest at eve is sent: We look'd for the first-born, whose mother's cry Sounds wild and shrill through the midnight sky! —Where are they?—thou 'rt seeking some distant coast— Oh, ask of them, stranger!—send back the lost! Tell them we mourn by the dark blue streams, Tell them our lives but of them are dreams! Tell, how we sat in the gloom to pine, And to watch for a step—but the step was thine!
# The Forest Sanctuary, and Other Poems/The Suliote Mother

THE SULIOTE MOTHER.
It is related in a French Life of Ali Pacha, that several of the Suliote women, on the advance of the Turkish troops into their mountain fastnesses, assembled on a lofty summit, and, after chanting a wild song, precipitated themselves, with their children, into the chasm below, to avoid becoming the slaves of the enemy.
She stood upon the loftiest peak, Amidst the clear blue sky, A bitter smile was on her cheek, And a dark flash in her eye. "Dost thou see them, boy?—through the dusky pines Dost thou see where the foeman's armour shines? Hast thou caught the gleam of the conqueror's crest? My babe, that I cradled on my breast! Wouldst thou spring from thy mother's arms with joy? —That sight hath cost thee a father, boy!"
For in the rocky strait beneath,  Lay Suliote sire and son; They had heap'd high the piles of death  Before the pass was won.
"They have cross'd the torrent, and on they come! Woe for the mountain hearth and home! There, where the hunter laid by his spear. There, where the lyre hath been sweet to hear, There, where I sang thee, fair babe! to sleep, Nought but the blood-stain our trace shall keep!"
And now the horn's loud blast was heard,  And now the cymbal's clang, Till ev'n the upper air was stirr'd,  As cliff and hollow rang.
"Hark! they bring music, my joyous child! What saith the trumpet to Suli's wild! Doth it light thine eye with so quick a fire, As if at a glance of thine armed sire? —Still!—be thou still!—there are brave men low— Thou wouldst not smile couldst thou seem him now!"
But nearer came the clash of steel,  And louder swell'd the horn, And farther yet the tambour's peal  Through the dark pass was borne.
"Hear'st thou the sound of their savage mirth? —Boy! thou wert free when I gave thee birth, Free, and how cherish'd, my warrior's son! He too hath bless'd thee, as I have done! Aye, and unchain'd must his lov'd ones be— —Freedom, young Suliote! for thee and me!"
And from the arrowy peak she sprung,  And fast the fair child bore, A veil upon the wind was flung,  A cry—and all was o'er!
# The Forest Sanctuary, and Other Poems/The Treasures of the Deep

THE TREASURES OF THE DEEP.
What hid'st thou in thy treasure-caves and cells? Thou hollow-sounding and mysterious main! —Pale glistening pearls, and rainbow-colour'd shells, Bright things which gleam unreck'd-of, and in vain! —Keep, keep thy riches, melancholy sea! We ask not such from thee.
Yet more, the depths have more!—what wealth untold, Far down, and shining through their stillness lies! Thou hast the starry gems, the burning gold, Won from ten thousand royal Argosies! —Sweep o'er thy spoils, thou wild and wrathful main! Earth claims not these again.
Yet more, the depths have more!—thy waves have roll'd Above the cities of a world gone by!
Sand hath fill'd up the palaces of old, Sea-weed o'ergrown the halls of revelry. —Dash o'er them, ocean! in thy scornful play! Man yields them to decay.
Yet more! the billows and the depths have more! High hearts and brave are gather'd to thy breast! They hear not now the booming waters roar, The battle-thunders will not break their rest. —Keep thy red gold and gems, thou stormy grave! Give back the true and brave!
Give back the lost and lovely!—those for whom The place was kept at board and hearth so long, The prayer went up through midnight's breathless gloom, And the vain yearning woke 'midst festal song! Hold fast thy buried Isles, thy towers o'erthrown— But all is not thine own.
To thee the love of woman hath gone down, Dark flow thy tides o'er manhood's noble head, O'er youth's bright locks, and beauty's flowery crown, —Yet must thou hear a voice—restore the dead! Earth shall reclaim her precious things from thee! —Restore the dead, thou sea!
# The Forest Sanctuary, and Other Poems/The Wild Huntsman

THE WILD HUNTSMAN.
It is a popular belief in the Odenwald, that the passing of the Wild Huntsman announces the approach of war. He is supposed to issue with his train from the ruined castle of Rodenstein, and traverse the air to the opposite castle of Schnellerts. It is confidently asserted that the sound of his phantom horses and hounds was heard by the Duke of Baden before the commencement of the last war in Germany.
Thy rest was deep at the slumberer's hour  If thou didst not hear the blast Of the savage horn, from the mountain-tower,  As the Wild Night-Huntsman pass'd. And the roar of the stormy chase went by,  Through the dark unquiet sky!
The stag sprung up from his mossy bed  When he caught the piercing sounds, And the oak-boughs crash'd to his antler'd head  As he flew from the viewless hounds; And the falcon soar'd from her craggy height,  Away through the rushing night!
The banner shook on its ancient hold,  And the pine in its desert-place, As the cloud and tempest onward roll'd  With the din of the trampling race; And the glens were fill'd with the laugh and shout,  And the bugle, ringing out!
From the chieftain's hand the wine-cup fell,  At the castle's festive board, And a sudden pause came o'er the swell  Of the harp's triumphal chord; And the Minnesinger's* thrilling lay  In the hall died fast away.
The convent's chanted rite was stay’d,  And the hermit dropp'd his beads, And a trembling ran through the forest-shade,  At the neigh of the phantom steeds, And the church-bells peal'd to the rocking blast  As the Wild Night-Huntsman pass'd.
The storm hath swept with the chase away,  There is stillness in the sky, But the mother looks on her son to-day,  With a troubled heart and eye, And the maiden's brow hath a shade of care  Midst the gleam of her golden hair!
The Rhine flows bright, but its waves ere long  Must hear a voice of war, And a clash of spears our hills among,  And a trumpet from afar; And the brave on a bloody turf must lie,  For the Huntsman hath gone by!
# The Forest Sanctuary, and Other Poems/The Revellers

THE REVELLERS.
Ring, joyous chords!—ring out again! A swifter still, and a wilder strain! They are here—the fair face and the careless heart, And stars shall wane ere the mirthful part. —But I met a dimly mournful glance, In a sudden turn of the flying dance; I heard the tone of a heavy sigh, In a pause of the thrilling melody! And it is not well that woe should breathe On the bright spring-flowers of the festal wreath! —Ye that to thought or to grief belong, Leave, leave the hall of song!
Ring, joyous chords!—but who art thou With the shadowy locks o'er thy pale young brow,
And the world of dreamy gloom that lies In the misty depths of thy soft dark eyes? —Thou hast lov'd, fair girl! thou hast lov'd too well! Thou art mourning now o'er a broken spell; Thou hast pour'd thy heart's rich treasures forth, And art unrepaid for their priceless worth! Mourn on!—yet come thou not here the while, It is but a pain to see thee smile! There is not a tone in our songs for thee— —Home with thy sorrows flee!
Ring, joyous chords!—ring out again! —But what dost thou with the Revel's train? A silvery voice through the soft air floats, But thou hast no part in the gladdening notes; There are bright young faces that pass thee by, But they fix no glance of thy wandering eye! Away! there 's a void in thy yearning breast, Thou weary man! wilt thou here find rest? Away! for thy thoughts from the scene have fled, And the love of thy spirit is with the dead! Thou art but more lone midst the sounds of mirth— —Back to thy silent hearth!
Ring, joyous chords!—ring forth again! A swifter still, and a wilder strain! —But thou, though a reckless mien be thine, And thy cup be crown'd with the foaming wine, By the fitful bursts of thy laughter loud, By thine eye's quick flash through its troubled cloud, I know thee!—it is but the wakeful fear Of a haunted bosom that brings thee here! I know thee!—thou fearest the solemn night, With her piercing stars and her deep wind's might! There 's a tone in her voice which thou fain wouldst shun, For it asks what the secret soul hath done! And thou—there 's a dark weight on thine—away! —Back to thy home and pray
Ring, joyous chords!—ring out again! A swifter still, and a wilder strain! And bring fresh wreaths!—we will banish all Save the free in heart from our festive hall. On through the maze of the fleet dance, on! —But where are the young and the lovely?—gone! Where are the brows with the red rose crown'd, And the floating forms with the bright zone bound?
And the waving locks and the flying feet, That still should be where the mirthful meet! —They are gone—they are fled—they are parted all— —Alas! the forsaken hall!
# The Forest Sanctuary, and Other Poems/The Shade of Theseus

THE SHADE OF THESEUS.
ANCIENT GREEK TRADITION.
Know ye not when our dead  From sleep to battle sprung? —When the Persian charger's tread  On their covering greensward rung! When the trampling march of foes  Had crush'd our vines and flowers, When jewell'd crests arose  Through the holy laurel-bowers,
When banners caught the breeze, When helms in sunlight shone, When masts were on the seas, And spears on Marathon.
There was one, a leader crown’d,  And arm'd for Greece that day; But the falchions made no sound  On his gleaming war-array. In the battle's front he stood,  With his tall and shadowy crest; But the arrows drew no blood  Though their path was through his breast.
When banners caught the breeze, When helms in sunlight shone, When masts were on the seas, And spears on Marathon.
His sword was seen to flash  Where the boldest deeds were done; But it smote without a clash;  The stroke was heard by none! His voice was not of those  That swell'd the rolling blast, And his steps fell hush'd like snows—  'Twas the Shade of Theseus pass’d!
When banners caught the breeze, When helms in sunlight shone, When masts were on the seas, And spears on Marathon.
Far sweeping through the foe,  With a fiery charge he bore; And the Mede left many a bow  On the sounding ocean-shore. And the foaming waves grew red,  And the sails were crowded fast, When the sons of Asia fled,  As the Shade of Theseus pass'd!
When banners caught the breeze, When helms in sunlight shone, When masts were on the seas, And spears on Marathon.
# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Tickell, Hon’ble Richard Hugh

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​Tickell, Hon’ble Richard Hugh, C.I.E., (1914); M.I.C.E.; Chief Engineer, C.P., since 1913: educ; R.I.E. College; joined service, 1881; Executive Engineer, 1894; served in Kotah State, 1894-1902; on Irrigation Works in Punjab and N.W.P.; constructed Upper Swat Canal in N.W.P.; Superintending Engineer, 1906. Address: Nagpur, C.P. Club: E.I. United Service.
# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Tilak, Bal Gangathar

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​Tilak, Bal Gangathar, B.A., LL.B., Lawyer, Sanskrit Scholar and Publicist, Poona; s. of late Pandit Gangadhar Ranichendra Tilak; b. Ratnagiri, 1S56; educ: Deccan College, Poona; B.A. (honours), 1876; LL.B., 1879; started the Poona New English School in conjunction with Mr. Agarkar and with the help Mr. Vishnu Krishna Chiplunker, 1800; started the “Mahratta” and the “Kesari” 1881; founded the Deccan Educational Society, Poona, in conjunction with Mr Namjoshi; founded the Ferguson College, 1885; actively connected with it till 1890; in charge of a Law class to equip young men for Law examination; Secretary, Deccan Standing Congress Committee for some years; organised the first five sessions of the Bombay Provincial Conference; Fellow, Bombay University; twice elected to Bombay Legislative Council; Member, Bombay Corporation for some years; established Cheap grain shops in the famine of 1896; organised a Hospital and recommended to the people the salutary measures of Government for stamping out the disease; convicted on a charge of sedition and sentenced to undergo 18 months imprisonment, 1897; released through the intercession of late Professor Max Müller and other Oriental scholars; again convicted on a similar charge and sentenced to 6 years transportation and a fine of Rs. 1,000, 1908; sentence commuted to simple imprisonment; interned at Mandalay; released and returned to Poona, 1914. Publications: “The Orion, or researches into the Antiquities of the Vedas”, etc. Address: Poona, Bombay Presidency.
# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Tinley, Colonel Gervase Francis Newport

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​Tinley, Colonel Gervase Francis Newport, C.B. (1909); s. of late Major-General Robert Newport Tinley; b. 1857; educ: at Jersey and at Royal Military College, Sandhurst; entered Army, 1875; became Colonel, 1905; served in Zhob Valley Expedition, 1884; Burma Expedition, 1885-89; Representative Indian Officer at Empress Victoria’s Funeral, 1901; Commanded Indian Cavalry Contingent at the Coronation of Emperor Edward VII, 1902; A.A.G. of Cavalry, Delhi Durbar, 1903; Meerut Division, 1905-08; m. Elsie Benton (died 1907), d. of William Benton Hughes of U.S. Army, 1891. Club: Junior Naval and Military.
# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Toker, Major-General Sir Alliston Champion

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​Toker, Major-General Sir Alliston Champion, K.C.B., (1906); C.B., (1887); b. 1843; s. of Philip Champion Toker; educ: Victoria College, Jersey; entered the Bengal Army, 1860; Major General, 1897; served in Bhutan Expedition, 1864-65; Egyptian ​Expedition, 1882; present at the battle of Tel-el-Kebir; served in Burma War,1886-87; in Command of 18th Infantry, Bengal Cantonment Magistrate, N.W.P., 1876-81; Deputy Secretary, Government of India (Military Department), 1887-93; Superintendent of Army Clothing, Bengal, 1892-97; passed Higher Examination in Oriental Languages; Translator of Professional Text-books for use in Native Armies in India. Publications: Translations of several Military Text-books into the Urdu, Hindi, and Gurmukhi languages. Address: 77, Waldeck Avenue, Bedford.
# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Timmins, Edmund Henry

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​Timmins, Edmund Henry, Editor of “The Empire”, Calcutta; s. of George Henry Timmins; b. at Birmingham, 1882; educ; St. Aloysius School, Highgate, London; joined the staff of the “Birmingham Weekly Mercury” as Sub-Editor, 1899; Reporter, “Catholic Herald” of Manchester, 1903; Reporter, “Midland Evening News”, Wolverhampton, 1903; Sub-Editor, Exchange Telegraph Company, 1904; ​Sub-Editor, “Pall Mall Gazette”, 1905; Sub-Editor, ‘Canada’, 1906; came out to India as Assistant Editor, “The Empire”, Calcutta, 1911; became Editor, 1913; interested in Volunteering and had 14 years service in Cyclists’ Yeomanry, and Calcutta Light Horse; interested in Athletics and had joined the Surrey Teritorial Team in the first Territorial Companionship; the first to suggest the formation of an Indian Team for Olympic Games; m. Jeannette Patricia, d. of Mr. H. H. Levey of London, 1914. Publications: Some Short Stories and Articles. Address: 3/1, Lansdowne Road, Calcutta.
# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Tobin, Colonel Frederick John

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​Tobin, Colonel Frederick John, D.S.O. (1900); s. of late Captain George Alexander Tobin; b. 1856; educ: privately; entered Army, 1875; Brevet Colonel, 1907; served in Afghan War, 1878-80; South Africa, 1900; thanked by Bombay Government for services during Ahmedabad riots, 1895; J.P. for the city and county of Belfast; m. Clare Edith Georgiana (died 1897), d. of late Thomas Waters of Parsonstown, 1884; retired, 1907. Club: United Service.
# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Tiruvenkatachariar, C. R.

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​Tiruvenkatachariar, C. R., B.A., B.L., Judge, City Civil Court, Madras, since 1910; B.A., 1886; B.L., 1S90; enrolled as Vakil, Madras High Court, 1891; Examiner in Law for some time to Madras University; confirmed 1912. Address: Church Road, Mylapore, India.
# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Tisivara Singi, Hon’ble Mr. Joseph Nicolas

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​Tisivara Singi, Hon’ble Mr. Joseph Nicolas, 2nd Tamil Member, Ceylon Legislative Council, since 1912. Address: Colombo, Ceylon.
# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Tomkins, General William Percival

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​Tomkins, General William Pereval, C.I.E., (1890); s. of late Samuel Tomkins; b. 1841; entered Army 1860; served in Zhob Valley Expedition. 1884; Director General, Military Works, India, 1893-96; General, 1895; m. Annie, d. of late Robert Thurburn, 1864. Address; 120, Lexham Gardens, S.W. Club: East India United Service.