OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Biographical Dictionary of America/Allen, Timothy Field

​ALLEN, Timothy Field, physician, was born at Westminster, Vt., April 24, 1837. He graduated from Amherst college in 1858, and from the medical school of the University of the city of New York in 1861, when he commenced the practice of medicine in Brooklyn, N. Y., and during 1862 was acting assistant surgeon in the United States army. In 1864 he established himself in New York city. As physician and scientist Dr. Allen has a national reputation, and as an author his published works have been favorably received in both America and Europe. His "Encyclopædia of Materia Medica," published in New York 1874-'79, and the index to the same issued in 1881, is a work covering the whole field of homœopathic therapeutics to the date of its issue. In 1878 he published a work on ophthalmic therapeutics, and his practice and writings have contributed in a large degree to the establishment of homœopathy. In 1867 he became professor of materia medica in the New York homœopathic medical college, and from 1882 to 1893 was the dean of that institution. He was also professor of materia medica in the New York medical college and hospital for women. He was president of and consulting surgeon to the New York ophthalmic hospital for many years; also an active member of the American institute of homœopathy, and of the state and county homœopathic medical societies, in all of which he held the office of president. As a botanist, Dr. Allen made a specialty of the characeæ; his works thereon being authoritative. He was chosen a fellow of the New York academy of sciences and of the national association for the advancement of science; honorary member of the homœopathic medical society of France; corresponding member of the British homœopathic medical society; honorary member of the Albany county medical society; the Rhode Island state homœopathic medical society, and consulting physician to the Laura Franklin hospital of New York city. He twice received the honorary degree of M.D., and that of LL.D. was conferred upon him by Amherst college in 1885.
# The Church Manual (Church of the Brethren)/Chapter 3

CHAPTER III.
LOYALTY TO CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
We believe that civil government is ordained of God for the care and protection of the good and for the punishment of those who do evil (Rom. 13:1–7) and that kings and rulers should be prayed for (1 Tim. 2:2) honored and obeyed (Heb. 13:17) so far as their laws and requirements do not conflict with the will of our Lord Jesus Christ (Acts 5:29) who is Lord of lords and King of kings, and whose laws are to be obeyed by the inhabitants of both heaven and earth. Rev. 19:16.
# The Church Manual (Church of the Brethren)/Chapter 5

CHAPTER V.
ANOINTING THE SICK.
We believe the anointing of the sick to be an appointment of the Lord, and that it was intended to be perpetuated in his church, and should be attended to, at the request of the sick, by the elders of the church. "Is ​any sick among you? let him call for the elders of the church; and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord." James 5: 14.
FORM OF ANOINTING.
As regards the anointing, it requires two brethren in order to perform it according to the advice of the apostle, since he says: "Let them call for the elders of the church, and let them pray over him." These words require more than one. Now, when we are going to perform the same, the first we do, after singing a few appropriate lines and briefly exhorting, is to turn to God unitedly, and to pray God for a blessing upon ourselves, upon the sick member, and upon all as we do in a meeting, and there is liberty to pray for all the brethren present. If time will permit, and strangers are present, the passage from James 5 may be read, as far as relates to this matter, and briefly commented upon. Then the sick member is raised to a sitting posture, and the elder brother reaches forth his hand, and the other brother pours the oil upon it, which he, the first, puts upon the head of the sick, and thus three times saying the words of the apostle: "Thou art anointed in the name of the Lord, unto the strengthening of thy faith, unto the comforting of thy conscience, and unto a full assurance of the remission of thy sins," or as the Lord may give utterance; and then the brethren both put up their
# The Church Manual (Church of the Brethren)/Chapter 2

CHAPTER II.
THE SABBATH.
We believe that the first day of the week is the true Christian Sabbath, (Acts 20:7; ​Col. 2:16, 17; Mark 2:27; John 20:19), and should be kept in a sacred manner by abstaining from all secular labor and sinful recreations (Isa. 58:13, 14) by the devout observance of all the means of grace, both private and public (Ps. 113:5, 6; Heb. 10:24, 25) in any way and every way that our own holiness and the honor of God and his kingdom can be promoted.
# The Church Manual (Church of the Brethren)/Chapter 4

CHAPTER IV.
NON-RESISTANCE.
We believe that the principle of non-resistance is clearly taught in the Scriptures, and therefore has been accepted as a doctrine of the church. In support of our position, we give the following: Christ is the Prince of Peace (Isa. 9: 6); his kingdom is not of the world and his servants do not fight (John 18: 36); the weapons of our warfare are not carnal (2 Cor. 10: 4), but we are to love our enemies (Matt. 5: 44), overcome evil with good (Rom. 12: 21), and pray for them which despitefully use and persecute us. Matt. 5: 44.
# The Church Manual (Church of the Brethren)/Chapter 15

CHAPTER XV.
THE PRAYER-MEETING.
The prayer-meeting is a social, religious gathering together of God's people for prayer and a mutual edifying and encouraging each other from the Scriptures of Divine Truth. The promise is, "Wheresoever two ​or three gather in my name, there am I in the midst of them." And the Scriptural injunction is, "Neglect not the assembling of yourselves together." These meetings are generally held once a week, and in the evening, either in the church or in private houses.
No organization is necessary except the appointing of a foreman, whose duty it is to have a general oversight of the meetings, appoint some one to lead, and make selections or announce subjects for the meetings. A change in the appointment of a leader is made each week, so as to give all an opportunity of exercising in religious work.
The meetings are opened in the usual way, by singing, prayer, and reading the chapter of Scripture containing the lesson for the evening.
To make the meetings as interesting and instructive as possible, the lesson should be announced one week ahead.
The one who leads is expected to give a short talk on the lesson that has been selected, after which liberty is given to the brethren and sisters to make such remarks on the subject as the prayerful study of it may have suggested. The remarks should be ​short, ranging from five to ten minutes. It may, at times, be profitable to divide the subject selected into parts, and assign them to different ones, that they may make special preparation, and in this way make the remarks more edifying. But, as a rule, it is better for all to study the whole lesson and then speak voluntarily as the Spirit prompts. The remarks may be profitably interspersed with singing, and continued until time for closing. The leader then announces a hymn, and after it is sung he calls on several to close in prayer.
# The Affair at the Semiramis Hotel

THE AFFAIR AT
THE SEMIRAMIS HOTEL
BY
A. E. W. MASON
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
NEW YORK ::::::1917
Copyright, 1917, by
A. E. W. MASON
THE AFFAIR AT THE SEMIRAMIS HOTEL
* Chapter I
* Chapter II
* Chapter III
* Chapter IV
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1948, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 75 years or less. 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
# The Collected poems of Rupert Brooke/Town and Country

​ TOWN AND COUNTRY
Here, where love's stuff is body, arm and side Are stabbing-sweet 'gainst chair and lamp and wall. In every touch more intimate meanings hide; And flaming brains are the white heart of all.
Here, million pulses to one centre beat: Closed in by men's vast friendliness, alone, Two can be drunk with solitude, and meet On the sheer point where sense with knowing's one.
Here the green-purple clanging royal night, And the straight lines and silent walls of town, And roar, and glare, and dust, and myriad white Undying passers, pinnacle and crown
Intensest heavens between close-lying faces By the lamp's airless fierce ecstatic fire; And we've found love in little hidden places, Under great shades, between the mist and mire.
Stay! though the woods are quiet, and you've heard Night creep along the hedges. Never go Where tangled foliage shrouds the crying bird, And the remote winds sigh, and waters flow!
​Lest—as our words fall dumb on windless noons, Or hearts grow hushed and solitary, beneath Unheeding stars and unfamiliar moons, Or boughs bend over, close and quiet as death,—
Unconscious and unpassionate and still, Cloud-like we lean and stare as bright leaves stare, And gradually along the stranger hill Our unwalled loves thin out on vacuous air,
And suddenly there's no meaning in our kiss, And your lit upward face grows, where we lie, Lonelier and dreadfuller than sunlight is, And dumb and mad and eyeless like the sky.
# The Collected poems of Rupert Brooke/The Way That Lovers Use

​ THE WAY THAT LOVERS USE
The way that lovers use is this; They bow, catch hands, with never a word, And their lips meet, and they do kiss, —So I have heard.
They queerly find some healing so, And strange attainment in the touch; There is a secret lovers know, —I have read as much.
And theirs no longer joy nor smart, Changing or ending, night or day; But mouth to mouth, and heart on heart, —So lovers say.
# The Collected poems of Rupert Brooke/Thoughts on the Shape of the Human Body

​ THOUGHTS ON THE SHAPE OF THE HUMAN BODY
How can we find? how can we rest? how can We, being gods, win joy, or peace, being man? We, the gaunt zanies of a witless Fate, Forget the moment ere the moment slips, Kiss with blind lips that seek beyond the lips, Who want, and know not what we want, and cry With crooked mouths for Heaven, and throw it by. Love's for completeness! No perfection grows 'Twixt leg, and arm, elbow, and ear, and nose, And joint, and socket; but unsatisfied Sprawling desires, shapeless, perverse, denied. Finger with finger wreathes; we love, and gape, Fantastic shape to mazed fantastic shape, Straggling, irregular, perplexed, embossed, Grotesquely twined, extravagantly lost By crescive paths and strange protuberant ways From sanity and from wholeness and from grace. How can love triumph, how can solace be, Where fever turns toward fever, knee toward knee? Could we but fill to harmony, and dwell Simple as our thought and as perfectible, Rise disentangled from humanity Strange whole and new into simplicity, Grow to a radiant round love, and bear Unfluctuant passion for some perfect sphere, ​Love moon to moon unquestioning, and be Like the star Lunisequa, steadfastly Following the round clear orb of her delight, Patiently ever, through the eternal night!
# The Collected poems of Rupert Brooke/The Vision of the Archangels

​ THE VISION OF THE ARCHANGELS
Slowly up silent peaks, the white edge of the world, Trod four archangels, clear against the unheeding sky, Bearing, with quiet even steps, and great wings furled, A little dingy coffin; where a child must lie, It was so tiny. (Yet, you had fancied, God could never Have bidden a child turn from the spring and the sunlight, And shut him in that lonely shell, to drop for ever Into the emptiness and silence, into the night. . . .)
They then from the sheer summit cast, and watched it fall, Through unknown glooms, that frail black coffin—and therein God's little pitiful Body lying, worn and thin, And curled up like some crumpled, lonely flower-petal— Till it was no more visible; then turned again With sorrowful quiet faces downward to the plain.
# The Collected poems of Rupert Brooke/Tiare Tahiti

​ TIARE TAHITI
Mamua, when our laughter ends, And hearts and bodies, brown as white, Are dust about the doors of friends, Or scent ablowing down the night, Then, oh! then, the wise agree, Comes our immortality. Mamua, there waits a land Hard for us to understand. Out of time, beyond the sun, All are one in Paradise, You and Pupure are one, And Taü, and the ungainly wise. There the Eternals are, and there The Good, the Lovely, and the True, And Types, whose earthly copies were The foolish broken things we knew; There is the Face, whose ghosts we are; The real, the never-setting Star; And the Flower, of which we love Faint and fading shadows here; Never a tear, but only Grief; Dance, but not the limbs that move; Songs in Song shall disappear; Instead of lovers, Love shall be; For hearts, Immutability; And there, on the Ideal Reef, Thunders the Everlasting Sea!
​And my laughter, and my pain, Shall home to the Eternal Brain. And all lovely things, they say, Meet in Loveliness again; Miri's laugh, Teïpo's feet, And the hands of Matua, Stars and sunlight there shall meet, Coral's hues and rainbows there, And Teüra's braided hair; And with the starred tiare's white, And white birds in the dark ravine, And flamboyants ablaze at night, And jewels, and evening's after-green, And dawns of pearl and gold and red, Mamua, your lovelier head! And there'll no more be one who dreams Under the ferns, of crumbling stuff, Eyes of illusion, mouth that seems, All time-entangled human love. And you'll no longer swing and sway Divinely down the scented shade, Where feet to Ambulation fade, And moons are lost in endless Day. How shall we wind these wreaths of ours, Where there are neither heads nor flowers? Oh, Heaven's Heaven!—but we'll be missing The palms, and sunlight, and the south; And there's an end, I think, of kissing, When our mouths are one with Mouth. . . .
​Taü here, Mamua, Crown the hair, and come away! Hear the calling of the moon, And the whispering scents that stray About the idle warm lagoon. Hasten, hand in human hand, Down the dark, the flowered way, Along the whiteness of the sand, And in the water's soft caress, Wash the mind of foolishness, Mamua, until the day. Spend the glittering moonlight there Pursuing down the soundless deep Limbs that gleam and shadowy hair, Or floating lazy, half-asleep. Dive and double and follow after, Snare in flowers, and kiss, and call, With lips that fade, and human laughter And faces individual, Well this side of Paradise! . . . There's little comfort in the wise.
Papeete, February 1914
# The Collected poems of Rupert Brooke/Victory

​ VICTORY
All night the ways of Heaven were desolate, Long roads across a gleaming empty sky. Outcast and doomed and driven, you and I, Alone, serene beyond all love or hate, Terror or triumph, were content to wait, We, silent and all-knowing. Suddenly Swept through the heaven low-crouching from on high, One horseman, downward to the earth's low gate.
Oh, perfect from the ultimate height of living, Lightly we turned, through wet woods blossom-hung, Into the open. Down the supernal roads, With plumes a-tossing, purple flags far flung, Rank upon rank, unbridled, unforgiving, Thundered the black battalions of the Gods.
# The Collected poems of Rupert Brooke/There's Wisdom in Women

​ THERE'S WISDOM IN WOMEN
"Oh love is fair, and love is rare;" my dear one she said, "But love goes lightly over." I bowed her foolish head, And kissed her hair and laughed at her. Such a child was she; So new to love, so true to love, and she spoke so bitterly.
But there's wisdom in women, of more than they have known, And thoughts go blowing through them, are wiser than their own, Or how should my dear one, being ignorant and young, Have cried on love so bitterly, with so true a tongue?
# The Collected poems of Rupert Brooke/Unfortunate

​ UNFORTUNATE
Heart, you are restless as a paper scrap That's tossed down dusty pavements by the wind; Saying, "She is most wise, patient and kind. Between the small hands folded in her lap Surely a shamed head may bow down at length, And find forgiveness where the shadows stir About her lips, and wisdom in her strength, Peace in her peace. Come to her, come to her!" . . .
She will not care. She'll smile to see me come, So that I think all Heaven in flower to fold me. She'll give me all I ask, kiss me and hold me, And open wide upon that holy air The gates of peace, and take my tiredness home, Kinder than God. But, heart, she will not care.
# The Collected poems of Rupert Brooke/The Voice

​ THE VOICE
Safe in the magic of my woods I lay, and watched the dying light. Faint in the pale high solitudes, And washed with rain and veiled by night,
Silver and blue and green were showing. And the dark woods grew darker still; And birds were hushed; and peace was growing; And quietness crept up the hill;
And no wind was blowing
And I knew That this was the hour of knowing, And the night and the woods and you Were one together, and I should find Soon in the silence the hidden key Of all that had hurt and puzzled me— Why you were you, and the night was kind, And the woods were part of the heart of me.
And there I waited breathlessly, Alone; and slowly the holy three, The three that I loved, together grew One, in the hour of knowing, Night, and the woods, and you—— ​And suddenly There was an uproar in my woods,
The noise of a fool in mock distress, Crashing and laughing and blindly going, Of ignorant feet and a swishing dress, And a Voice profaning the solitudes.
The spell was broken, the key denied me And at length your flat clear voice beside me Mouthed cheerful clear flat platitudes.
You came and quacked beside me in the wood. You said, "The view from here is very good!" You said, "It's nice to be alone a bit!" And, "How the days are drawing out!" you said. You said, "The sunset's pretty, isn't it?"
By God! I wish—I wish that you were dead!
# The Collected poems of Rupert Brooke/The Wayfarers

​ THE WAYFARERS
Is it the hour? We leave this resting-place Made fair by one another for a while. Now, for a god-speed, one last mad embrace; The long road then, unlit by your faint smile. Ah! the long road! and you so far away! Oh, I'll remember! but . . . each crawling day Will pale a little your scarlet lips, each mile Dull the dear pain of your remembered face.
. . . Do you think there's a far border town, somewhere, The desert's edge, last of the lands we know, Some gaunt eventual limit of our light, In which I'll find you waiting; and we'll go Together, hand in hand again, out there, Into the waste we know not, into the night?
# The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/Hymn (2)

HYMN
O li'l' lamb out in de col', De Mastah call you to de fol',  O li'l' lamb! He hyeah you bleatin' on de hill; Come hyeah an' keep yo' mou'nin' still,  O li'l' lamb!
De Mastah sen' de Shepud fo'f; He wandah souf, he wandah no'f,  O li'l' lamb! He wandah eas', he wandah wes'; De win' a-wrenchin' at his breas',  O li'l' lamb!
Oh, tell de Shepud whaih you hide; He want you walkin' by his side,  O li'l' lamb! He know you weak, he know you so'; But come, don' stay away no mo',  O li'l' lamb!
An' af'ah while de lamb he hyeah De Shepud's voice a-callin' cleah—  Sweet li'l' lamb! He answah f'om de brambles thick, "O Shepud, I's a-comin' quick"—  O li'l' lamb!
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
# The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/How Shall I Woo Thee

HOW SHALL I WOO THEE
How shall I woo thee to win thee, mine own? Say in what tongue shall I tell of my love. I who was fearless so timid have grown, All that was eagle has turned into dove. The path from the meadow that leads to the bars Is more to me now than the path of the stars.
How shall I woo thee to win thee, mine own, Thou who art fair and as far as the moon? Had I the strength of the torrent's wild tone, Had I the sweetness of warblers in June; The strength and the sweetness might charm and persuade, But neither have I my petition to aid.
How shall I woo thee to win thee, mine own? How shall I traverse the distance between My humble cot and your glorious throne? How shall a clown gain the ear of a queen? Oh teach me the tongue that shall please thee the best, For till I have won thee my heart may not rest.
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
# The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/Hope

HOPE
De dog go howlin' 'long de road,  De night come shiverin' down; My back is tiahed of its load,  I cain't be fu' f'om town. No mattah ef de way is long, My haht is swellin' wid a song,  No mattah 'bout de frownin' skies,  I'll soon be home to see my Lize.
My shadder staggah on de way,  It's monstous col' to-night; But I kin hyeah my honey say  "W'y bless me if de sight O' you ain't good fu' my so' eyes." (Dat talk's dis lak my lady Lize)  I's so'y case de way was long  But Lawd you bring me love an' song.
No mattah ef de way is long,  An' ef I trimbles so' I knows de fiah's burnin' strong,  Behime my Lizy's do'. An' daih my res' an' joy shell be, Whaih my ol' wife's awaitin' me—  Why what I keer fu' stingin' blas',  I see huh windah light at las'.
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
# The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/Her Thought And His

HER THOUGHT AND HIS The gray of the sea, and the gray of the sky, A glimpse of the moon like a half-closed eye. The gleam on the waves and the light on the land, A thrill in my heart,—and—my sweetheart's hand.
She turned from the sea with a woman's grace, And the light fell soft on her upturned face, And I thought of the flood-tide of infinite bliss That would flow to my heart from a single kiss.
But my sweetheart was shy, so I dared not ask For the boon, so bravely I wore the mask. But into her face there came a flame:— I wonder could she have been thinking the same?
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