OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# National Lyrics, and Songs for Music/Scene in a Dalecarlian Mine

SCENE IN A DALECARLIAN MINE.
"Oh! fondly, fervently, those two had loved, Had mingled minds in Love's own perfect trust: Had watched bright sunsets, dreamt of blissful years; ——And thus they met.
"Haste, with your torches, haste! make firelight round!" —They speed, they press—what hath the miner found? Relic or treasure, giant sword of old? Gems bedded deep, rich veins of burning gold? —Not so—the dead, the dead! An awe-struck band, In silence gathering round the silent stand,
Chained by one feeling, hushing e'en their breath, Before the thing that, in the might of death, Fearful, yet beautiful, amidst them lay— A sleeper, dreaming not!—a youth with hair Making a sunny gleam (how sadly fair!) O'er his cold brow: no shadow of decay Had touched those pale bright features—yet he wore A mien of other days, a garb of yore. Who could unfold that mystery? From the throng A woman wildly broke; her eye was dim, As if through many tears, through vigils long, Through weary strainings:—all had been for him! Those two had loved! And there he lay, the dead, In his youth's flower—and she, the living, stood With her grey hair, whence hue and gloss had fled— And wasted form, and cheek, whose flushing blood Had long since ebb'd—a meeting sad and strange! —Oh! are not meetings in this world of change Sadder than partings oft? She stood there, still, And mute, and gazing, all her soul to fill
With the loved face once more—the young, fair face, 'Midst that rude cavern touched with sculpture’s grace, By torchlight and by death:—until at last From her deep heart the spirit of the past Gushed in low broken tones:—"And there thou art! And thus we meet, that loved, and did but part As for a few brief hours!—My friend, my friend! First-love, and only one! Is this the end Of hope deferred, youth blighted? Yet thy brow Still wears its own proud beauty, and thy cheek Smiles—how unchanged!—while I, the worn, and weak, And faded—oh! thou wouldst but scorn me now, If thou couldst look on me!—a withered leaf, Seared—though for thy sake—by the blast of grief! Better to see thee thus! For thou didst go, Bearing my image on thy heart, I know, Unto the dead. My Ulric! through the night How have I called thee! With the morning light
How have I watched for thee!—wept, wandered, prayed, Met the fierce mountain tempest, undismayed, In search of thee! Bound my worn life to one, One torturing hope! Now let me die! 'Tis gone. Take thy betrothed!"—And on his breast she fell— —Oh! since their youth's last passionate farewell, How changed in all but love!—the true, the strong, Joining in death whom life had parted long! —They had one grave—one lonely bridal bed— No friend, no kinsman, there a tear to shed! His name had ceased—her heart outlived each tie, Once-more to look on that dead face—and die!
# National Lyrics, and Songs for Music/Old Norway

OLD NORWAY.
A MOUNTAIN WAR-SONG.
"To a Norwegian the words Gamlé Norgé (Old Norway) have a spell in them immediate and powerful; they cannot be resisted. Gamlé Norgé is heard, in an instant repeated by every voice; the glasses are filled, raised, and drained; not a drop is left; and then bursts forth the simultaneous chorus "For Norgé!” the national song of Norway. Here, (at Christiansand) and in a hundred other instances in Norway, I have seen the character of a company entirely changed by the chance introduction of the expression Gamlé Norgé. The gravest discussion is instantly interrupted; and one might suppose for the moment, that the party was a party of patriots, assembled to commemorate some national anniversary of freedom."—Derwent Conway's Personal Narrative of a Journey through Norway and Sweden.
The following words were written to the national air, as contained in the work above cited.
OLD NORWAY.*
A MOUNTAIN WAR-SONG.
Arise! old Norway sends the word  Of battle on the blast; Her voice the forest pines hath stirr'd,  As if a storm went past; Her thousand hills the call have heard,  And forth their fire-flags cast.
Arm, arm, free hunters! for the chase,  The kingly chase of foes; 'Tis not the bear or wild wolf's race,  Whose trampling shakes the snows; Arm, arm! 'tis on a nobler trace  The northern spearman goes.
Our hills have dark and strong defiles,  With many an icy bed; Heap there the rocks for funeral piles,  Above the invader's head! Or let the seas, that guard our Isles,  Give burial to his dead!
# Newes from the Dead/To the Hangman

To the Hangman.
COme Flesh-Crow, tell me, what's the cause that you Rigour to men, to Women Favour show? Your Office you have not perform'd, 'tis plaine: See, here's the Wench you hang'd, alive againe. ​Yet, for this once, I'le cleare you; it was not Your slack rope sav'd her, nor your fast-loose knot. Her fatall halter shee (to end the strife) Untwisted spun into a thread of life.
Ed. Norreys Eq. Aur. fil. Coll. Reg.
# Newes from the Dead/To the happy Instruments of the Executed Maids Recovery

To the happy Instruments of the Executed Maids Recovery.
Oxford (the Arts Metropolis) ner'e knew A rarer feat then was perform'd by you. Brave Æsculapian friends! whose Art could give After the Execution a Reprieve. And yet 'twas timely too: for though grim Death Had seiz'd the passage of her Vitall breath, Yet you a new one made: And the same Veine That let out blood, receiv'd in Life againe. The Soule, which is in every part entire, Can, undiscern'd by you, to none retire: Since you no lesse the tracke of soules doe know, Than that of Liverets in new-fallen Snow. Others can by their Chymistry reduce A Plant or flower from its dust or juyce; But your sublimer Art hath done much more Whil'st humane soules you from their Urnes restore. ​Yet though your skill and pity could dispence, More daies to her beguiled Innocence: No Art removes à ruin'd Virgins shame, Unlesse revived she, be not the same. Thus 'tis more easy to recall the Dead Then to restore a once-lost Maidenhead.
Kingsmill Lucy Gent. Com. of Ch. Ch.
# Newes from the Dead/Thou Sophister of Fate

THou Sophister of Fate, that canst deny A faire dispute by an Amphiboly; Reade Hebrew-wise thy Neck-verse, make to be In thine own doom an Infra-pollency: Insertst no Negative, and yet canst state An affirm'd sentence Illegitimate. Sure Minos Jury was for these too Grand, That did thy Doom re-eccho, did withstand Thy Epilogue, and made it for to be ​But a new Prologue to Virginity. Thy Mate shall be no Proteus, yet in thee, Although but one, will be Polygamy. Thou canst intombe a Wife-hood, and yet rise A Virgin out of th'ashes, Phœnix-wise. Cease would the Romans th'wonder to extoll Of th Head found fresh; Thine had been Capitoll. Caligula his bloudy wish would check To cut off Rome, had thine but been the neck.
A. Spence of St. Joh. Coll.
# Newes from the Dead/Thou shalt not Swing againe

THou shalt not Swing againe: come cleare thy brow, Thou hast the Benefit o'th' Clergie now; Nor is thy Neck-Verse writt in Blood, which might Confound thy Thoughts, as it must needs thy Sight. Thus when Apollo keeps th' Assises, then Women are sav'd by Booke, as well as Men. Strange Wench! what character may fit the, best, That still canst live, though Thou art Hang'd and Prest?
Rob.Mathew, Fellow of New Coll.
# Newes from the Dead/To the Physitians

To the Physitians.
TO raise a Pyramide unto your skill Were to mistrust experience, and still Think Death a Gyant, whose vast gripe could span And squeez to nought both memory and man. Yee are not mortall, nor need feare to dye: To conquer Death is Immortality. Yee have done that. Marble may serve to hide It's owne dust now, or tell who should have dy'd: There is no other use for't. And thou Death Vaunt not henceforth 'tis with Thy leave we breath. Th'art vanquish't quite, and this thy Mulct shall be, To write Probatum to their victory.
# Newes from the Dead/What hath the Law its power lost

WHat hath the Law its power lost Since th' English tongue hath it engrost? Or did old Juno owe a spight To Fate, and it for to requite Sit cross-leg'd charming Her alive, And hence Death prove so Abortive? Sure Venus was in th' Horoscope, When She was strugling with the Rope: And kept out Death from entring in, To shew that Cupid cannot sin. If so? then might She well escape, Love suffers not a second rape. Strange Beast! what all her Riders fling? Could not Death rule Her in a string?
# Newes from the Dead/Wonder of highest Art!

WOnder of highest Art! He that will reach A Streine for thee, had need his Muse should stretch, Till flying to the Shades, she learne what Veine Of Orpheus call'd Eurydice againe; Or learne of her Apollo, 'till she can As well, as Singer, prove Physitian: And then she may without Suspension sing, And, authorized, harp upon thy String. Discordant string! for sure thy soule (unkinde To its own Bowels Issue) could not finde One Breast in Confort to its jarring stroake 'Mongst piteous Femall Organs, therefore broke Translations due Law, from fate repriev'd, ​And struck a Unison to her selfe, and liv'd. Was't this? or was it, that the Goatish Flow Of thy Adulterous veines (from thence let goe By second Æsculapius his hand) Dissolv'd the Parcæ's Adamantine Band, And made Thee Artist's Glory, Shame of Fate, Triumph of Nature, Virbius his Mate.
Christ. Wren, Gent. Com. Wad. Coll.
# Newes from the Dead/The Womans Case put to the Lawyers

The Womans Case put to the Lawyers.
MOther, or Maid, I pray you whether? One, or both, or am I neither? The Mother dyed: may't not be said That the Surviver is a Maid? Here, take your Fee, declare your sense; And free me from this New Suspense.
# Newes from the Dead/Thou Pill too strong for fate!

THou Pill too strong for fate! in whose defence Mira'cles stept in to rescue innocence. Death was thy Ordeall, and Compurgatrix And Minos did thy Judges doome refix. Thou didst bring forth in riddles, so surviv'st. By giving breath thou Kild'st,by dying liv'st. Thy rude spawns fleeting soule did sure retire To thee the Damme, as a reserve entire, Giving thee second life, when thine was done Thou wert thine owne superfetation. Strange fruit o'th' cursed and the barren Tree That madst the Hangman practice Midwifery, Nature new hatchd thee, as first Men, who tooke Birth from harsh Entrals of a Vitall Oak, One of the Daughters of Deucalion Thou wakest from thy Tomb, as they from stone.
Fr. Withins Gen. Com. of. S. Johns.
# Newfoundland

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Newfoundland."
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, quotes, 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.
* The Newfoundland, a court case by Joseph McKenna (1900).
* Ode to Newfoundland, a poem by Cavendish Boyle (1902).
# Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers: Series I/Volume II/City of God/Book III/Chapter 24

Chapter 24.—Of the Civil Dissension Occasioned by the Sedition of the Gracchi.
The civil wars originated in the seditions which the Gracchi excited regarding the agrarian laws; for they were minded to divide among the people the lands which were wrongfully possessed by the nobility. But to reform an abuse of so long standing was an enterprise full of peril, or rather, as the event proved, of destruction. For what disasters accompanied the death of the older Gracchus! what slaughter ensued when, shortly after, the younger brother met the same fate! For noble and ignoble were indiscriminately massacred; and this not by legal authority and procedure, but by mobs and armed rioters. After the death of the younger Gracchus, the consul Lucius Opimius, who had given battle to him within the city, and had defeated and put to the sword both himself and his confederates, and had massacred many of the citizens, instituted a judicial examination of others, and is reported to have put to death as many as 3000 men. From this it may be gathered how many fell in the riotous encounters, when the result even of a judicial investigation was so bloody. The assassin of Gracchus himself sold his head to the consul for its weight in gold, such being the previous agreement. In this massacre, too, Marcus Fulvius, a man of consular rank, with all his children, was put to death.
# Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers: Series I/Volume II/City of God/Book III/Chapter 25

Chapter 25.—Of the Temple of Concord, Which Was Erected by a Decree of the Senate on the Scene of These Seditions and Massacres.
A pretty decree of the senate it was, truly, by which the temple of Concord was built on the spot where that disastrous rising had taken place, and where so many citizens of every rank had fallen. I suppose it was that the monument of the Gracchi’s punishment might strike the eye and affect the memory of the pleaders. But what was this but to deride the gods, by building a temple to that goddess who, had she been in the city, would not have suffered herself to be torn by such dissensions? Or was it that Concord was chargeable with that bloodshed because she had deserted the minds of the citizens, and was therefore incarcerated in that temple? For if they had any regard to consistency, why did they not rather erect on that site a temple of Discord? Or is there a reason for Concord being a goddess while Discord is none? Does the distinction of Labeo hold here, who would have made the one a good, the other an evil deity?—a distinction which seems to have been suggested to him by the mere fact of his observing at Rome a temple to Fever as well as one to Health. But, on the same ground, Discord as well as Concord ought to be deified. A hazardous venture the Romans made in provoking so wicked a goddess, and in forgetting that the destruction of Troy had been occasioned by her taking offence.  For, being indignant that she was not invited with the other gods [to the nuptials of Peleus and Thetis], she created dissension among the three goddesses by sending in the golden apple, which occasioned strife in heaven, victory to Venus, the rape of Helen, and the destruction of Troy. Wherefore, if she was perhaps offended that the Romans had not thought her worthy of a temple among the other gods in their city, and therefore disturbed the state with such tumults, to how much fiercer passion would she be roused when she saw the temple of her adversary erected on the scene of that massacre, or, in other words, on the scene of her own handiwork!
Those wise and learned men are enraged at our laughing at these follies; and yet, being worshippers of good and bad divinities alike, they cannot escape this dilemma about Concord and Discord: either they have neglected the worship of these goddesses, and preferred Fever and War, to whom there are shrines erected of great antiquity, or they have worshipped them, and after all Concord has abandoned them, and Discord has tempestuously hurled them into civil wars.

## Footnotes

* ↑ Under the inscription on the temple some person wrote the line, “Vecordiæ opus ædem facit Concordiæ.”—The work of discord makes the temple of Concord.
# Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers: Series I/Volume II/City of God/Book III/Chapter 27

Chapter 27.—Of the Civil War Between Marius and Sylla.
But when Marius, stained with the blood of his fellow-citizens, whom the rage of party had sacrificed, was in his turn vanquished and driven from the city, it had scarcely time to breathe freely, when, to use the words of Cicero, “Cinna and Marius together returned and took possession of it. Then, indeed, the foremost men in the state were put to death, its lights quenched. Sylla afterwards avenged this cruel victory; but we need not say with what loss of life, and with what ruin to the republic.” For of this vengeance, which was more destructive than if the crimes which it punished had been committed with impunity, Lucan says: “The cure was excessive, and too closely resembled the disease. The guilty perished, but when none but the guilty survived: and then private hatred and anger, unbridled by law, were allowed free indulgence.” In that war between Marius and Sylla, besides those who fell in the field of battle, the city, too, was filled with corpses in its streets, squares, markets, theatres, and temples; so that it is not easy to reckon whether the victors slew more before or after victory, that they might be, or because they were, victors. As soon as Marius triumphed, and returned from exile, besides the butcheries everywhere perpetrated, the head of the consul Octavius was exposed on the rostrum; Cæsar and Fimbria were assassinated in their own houses; the two Crassi, father and son, were murdered in one another’s sight; Bebius and Numitorius were disembowelled by being dragged with hooks; Catulus escaped the hands of his enemies by drinking poison; Merula, the flamen of Jupiter, cut his veins and made a libation of his own blood to his god. Moreover, every one whose salutation Marius did not answer by giving his hand, was at once cut down before his face.

## Footnotes

* ↑ Cicero, in Catilin, iii. sub. fin.
* ↑ Lucan, Pharsal. 142–146.
# Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers: Series I/Volume II/City of God/Book III/Chapter 28

Chapter 28.—Of the Victory of Sylla, the Avenger of the Cruelties of Marius.
Then followed the victory of Sylla, the so-called avenger of the cruelties of Marius. But not only was his victory purchased with great bloodshed; but when hostilities were finished, hostility survived, and the subsequent peace was bloody as the war. To the former and still recent massacres of the elder Marius, the younger Marius and Carbo, who belonged to the same party, added greater atrocities. For when Sylla approached, and they despaired not only of victory, but of life itself, they made a promiscuous massacre of friends and foes. And, not satisfied with staining every corner of Rome with blood, they besieged the senate, and led forth the senators to death from the curia as from a prison. Mucius Scævola the pontiff was slain at the altar of Vesta, which he had clung to because
no spot in Rome was more sacred than her temple; and his blood well-nigh extinguished the fire which was kept alive by the constant care of the virgins. Then Sylla entered the city victorious, after having slaughtered in the Villa Publica, not by combat, but by an order, 7000 men who had surrendered, and were therefore unarmed; so fierce was the rage of peace itself, even after the rage of war was extinct. Moreover, throughout the whole city every partisan of Sylla slew whom he pleased, so that the number of deaths went beyond computation, till it was suggested to Sylla that he should allow some to survive, that the victors might not be destitute of subjects. Then this furious and promiscuous licence to murder was checked, and much relief was expressed at the publication of the proscription list, containing though it did the death-warrant of two thousand men of the highest ranks, the senatorial and equestrian. The large number was indeed saddening, but it was consolatory that a limit was fixed; nor was the grief at the numbers slain so great as the joy that the rest were secure.  But this very security, hard-hearted as it was, could not but bemoan the exquisite torture applied to some of those who had been doomed to die. For one was torn to pieces by the unarmed hands of the executioners; men treating a living man more savagely than wild beasts are used to tear an abandoned corpse. Another had his eyes dug out, and his limbs cut away bit by bit, and was forced to live a long while, or rather to die a long while, in such torture.  Some celebrated cities were put up to auction, like farms; and one was collectively condemned to slaughter, just as an individual criminal would be condemned to death. These things were done in peace when the war was over, not that victory might be more speedily obtained, but that, after being obtained, it might not be thought lightly of. Peace vied with war in cruelty, and surpassed it: for while war overthrew armed hosts, peace slew the defenceless. War gave liberty to him who was attacked, to strike if he could; peace granted to the survivors not life, but an unresisting death.
# Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers: Series I/Volume II/City of God/Book III/Chapter 29

Chapter 29.—A Comparison of the Disasters Which Rome Experienced During the Gothic and Gallic Invasions, with Those Occasioned by the Authors of the Civil Wars.
What fury of foreign nations, what barbarian ferocity, can compare with this victory of citizens over citizens? Which was more disastrous, more hideous, more bitter to Rome: the recent Gothic and the old Gallic invasion, or the cruelty displayed by Marius and Sylla and their partisans against men who were members of the same body as themselves? The Gauls, indeed, massacred all the senators they found in any part of the city except the Capitol, which alone was defended; but they at least sold life to those who were in the Capitol, though they might have starved them out if they could not have stormed it. The Goths, again, spared so many senators, that it is the more surprising that they killed any. But Sylla, while Marius was still living, established himself as conqueror in the Capitol, which the Gauls had not violated, and thence issued his death-warrants; and when Marius had escaped by flight, though destined to return more fierce and bloodthirsty than ever, Sylla issued from the Capitol even decrees of the senate for the slaughter and confiscation of the property of many citizens.  Then, when Sylla left, what did the Marian faction hold sacred or spare, when they gave no quarter even to Mucius, a citizen, a senator, a pontiff, and though clasping in piteous embrace the very altar in which, they say, reside the destinies of Rome? And that final proscription list of Sylla’s, not to mention countless other massacres, despatched more senators than the Goths could even plunder.