OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Pocahontas and Other Poems (New York)/Death of a young Man devoted to Missions

DEATH OF A YOUNG MAN DEVOTED TO MISSIONS.
Thou wert a musing student o'er thy book When first I saw thee. Yet the eagle's wing Soar'd not more duly sunward, than thy mind From cliff to cliff of knowledge urged its way, Kindling and glorying at the proud pursuit. A ripe, rare spirit wrought within thy form Of boyish beauty.  Then thy glance grew deep, Feeding on secret, solitary thought With speechless joy. For thou didst hear that voice From voiceless nature, in the wind that swept Around thy student's chamber, in the stream Freshening the foliage of yon college grove, And in the whisper of the lone wild flower, Which none but poets hear. Thy waking lyre, Sweet son of song, won thee warm brotherhood From many a loving heart.  Yet not the realm Of ancient learning, throng'd with classic shapes, Nor rose-wreath'd poesy's enchanting bowers, Contented thee.  Thy soul had higher aims, And from Castalian waters meekly turn'd To the pure rill that kiss'd the Saviour's feet: And ever o'er its hour of lonely thought
Or deep devotion, China's millions stole, Blind—wandering—lost.  So, then, thou didst dismiss The host of pleasant fancies, which so long Had made thy pilgrimage a music strain, And for the outcast heathen pledge thy life, A diamond to the treasury of thy Lord. Heaven took the pledge, yet not for weary years Of toil, and pain, and age.  There was a flush On thy young cheek, a fire within thine eye, A failing of the footstep, that was wont To tread green earth so light and buoyantly, A wasting of the half ethereal clay: Heaven took the pledge, and thou art all its own.
# Pocahontas and Other Poems (New York)/Dreams

DREAMS.
Revere the mind, so full of mystery, Even in its passive hours.  Behold it roam, With unseal'd eye and wide unfolded wing, While the tired body sleeps. Immortal guest! Our earthly nature bows itself to thee, Pressing its ear of flesh unto the sigh Of thy perturbed visions, if perchance It hear some murmur of thy birth divine, Thy deathless heritage.  Ah! dreams are dear To those whom waking life hath surfeited With dull monotony. When the long day Wends to its close, and stealthy evening steals, Like some lean miser, greedily to snatch Hope's wreath that morning gave, is it not sweet To close our eyelids, and to find the rose That hides no thorn, the gold that knows no rust, Scatter'd where'er we tread? Is it not sweet To 'scape from stern reality, and glide Where'er wild fancy marks her fairy way Unlimited? If adverse fortune make Our pillow stony, like the patriarch's bed At lonely Bethel, do not pitying dreams Plant a bright ladder for the angels' feet, And change our hard couch to the gate of Heaven,
And feed our souls on manna, till they loathe Their household bread?  To traverse all unblamed Broad realms, more bright than fabled Araby; To hear unearthly music; to inhale Ambrosial fragrance from the spicy groves That never fade; to see the tyrant tomb
Unlock its treasure-valve, and freely yield The loved, the lost, back to our glad embrace;
To catch clear glimpses of the streets of gold, And harpers harping mid the eternal hills, These are the pastimes which the mind doth take While its poor clay companion slumbers deep, Weary and worn.  If thou in wintry climes Shouldst exiled roam, thy very heart's blood chill'd, Lay but thy cold hand on a winged dream, And it shall bear thee straight with bounding pulse To drink the sunbeams of thine own blue skies, Where the young cottage children freely fill Their pinafores with flowers.  Should ocean swell, Or the eternal mountains stretch their bars 'Tween thee and thy loved home, how strangely sweet To touch the talisman of dreams, and sit Again on thine own sofa, hand in hand With the most loved, thy children near thy side At their untiring play, the shaded lamp Shedding its quiet beam, while now and then The clock upon the mantelpiece doth speak, To register the diamond sands of time, Made brighter by thy joys.
So mayst thou hold Existence in two hemispheres, and be Happy in both; yea, in each separate zone Have thine own castles, and revisit them Whene'er it pleaseth thee.  But more than this: If thou wilt seek the fellowship of dreams, And fearless yield thee to their loving sway, And make them friends, they'll swiftly bear thee up From star to star, and let thee hear the rush Of angel-wings, upon God's errands speeding; And, while they make some silver cloud thy car, Will whispering tell thee that the unslumbering soul Wears immortality upon its crest, And, by its very power to soar with them, Proves that it cannot die.
# Pocahontas and Other Poems (New York)/Death of an Infant in its Mother's Arms

DEATH OF AN INFANT IN ITS MOTHER'S ARMS.
"He slumbers long, young mother,  Upon thy gentle breast; Thou'rt weary now with watching,  Sweet mother, go to rest: There seems no pain to stir him,  His peril sure is past, For see, his soft hand clasp'd in thine,  He heeds nor storm nor blast.
Why dost thou gaze so wildly?  Why strain thy strong embrace? Unlock thy fearful clasping,  And let me see his face:" So down that mother laid him,  In her agony of care, And kiss'd the cold and marble brow  With calm and fix'd despair.
"Oh weep! there's holy healing  In every gushing tear, Nor question thus that beauteous clay,  The angel is not here;
No shut of rose at eventide  Was with a peace so deep, As o'er thy darling's closing eye  Stole his last dovelike sleep."
Where best he loved to hide him,  In that dear sheltering spot, Just there his tender spirit pass'd—  Pass'd, and she knew it not: His fond lip never trembled,  Nor sigh'd the parting breath, When strangely for his nectar'd draught  He drank the cup of death.
Full was thy lot of blessing,  To charm his cradle-hours, To touch his sparkling fount of thought,  And breathe his breath of flowers, And take thy daily lesson  From the smile that beam'd so free, Of what in holier, brighter realms,  The pure in heart must be.
No more thy twilight musing  May with his image shine, When in that lonely hour of love  He laid his cheek to thine; So still and so confiding  That cherish'd babe would be, So like a sinless guest from heaven,  And yet a part of thee.
But now his blessed portion  Is o'er the cloud to soar, And spread a never-wearied wing  Where sorrows are no more; With cherubim and seraphim  To tread the ethereal plain, High honour hath it been to thee  To swell that glorious train.
# Pocahontas and Other Poems (New York)/Earth's Delusions

EARTH'S DELUSIONS.
Build'st thou on Wealth? Its wings are ever spread  Its dazzled votaries to elude and foil! On Science? Lo! the lofty sage hath fled,  Like the pale lamp that lit his midnight toil,  Forgotten as the flower that deck'd the vernal soil.
Build'st thou on Love? The trusting heart it cheers  While youth and hope entwine their garlands gay, Yet hath it still an heritage of tears:  Build'st thou on Fame? The dancing meteor's ray  Glides not on swifter wing, to deeper night away.
Why, on such sands, thy spirit's temple rear?  How shall its base the wrecking billows shun? Go, seek th' Eternal Rock, with humble fear,  And on the tablet of each setting sun,  Grave with a diamond pen some deed of duty done.
Young, art thou? then the words of Wisdom weigh  Mature! the gathering ills of life beware. Aged? Oh, make His changeless arm thy stay,  Who saves the weakest suppliant from despair,  And bids the darken'd tomb a robe of glory wear.
# Pocahontas and Other Poems (New York)/Folly

FOLLY.
"The fool hath said in his heart, there is no God." Psalm xiv.
"No God! no God!" The simplest flower  That on the wild is found, Shrinks as it drinks its cup of dew,  And trembles at the sound. "No God!" astonished echo cries  From out her cavern hoar, And every wandering bird that flies  Reproves the atheist-lore.
The solemn forest lifts its head,  The Almighty to proclaim, The brooklet, on its crystal urn,  Doth leap to grave his name: High swells the deep and vengeful sea  Along his billowy track, And red Vesuvius opes his mouth,  To hurl the falsehood back.
The palm-tree, with its princely crest,  The cocoa's leafy shade, The bread-fruit, bending to its lord,  In yon far island-glade; The winged seeds that, borne by winds,  The roving sparrows feed, The melon on the desert-sands,  Confute the scorner's creed.
"No God!" With indignation high  The fervent sun is stirr'd, And the pale moon turns paler still  At such an impious word; And, from their burning thrones, the stars  Look down with angry eye, That thus a worm of dust should mock  Eternal Majesty.
# Poemas ingleses/XIV

The bridegroom aches for the end of this and lusts To know those paps in sucking gusts, To put his first hand on that belly's hair And feel for the lipped lair, The fortress made to be taken, for which He feels the battering ram grow large and itch. The trembling glad bride feels all the day hot On that still cloistered spot Where only her maiden hand did feign A pleasure's empty gain. And, of the others, most will whisper at this, Knowing the spurt it is; And children yet, that watch with looking eyes, Will now thrill to be wise In flesh, and with big men and women act The liquid tickling fact For whose taste they'll in secret corners try They scarce know what still dry.
# Poemata Minora, Volume II/To Pan

​FAVNVS, OR ΠΑΝ
PAN. HABEBAT> CORNVA. BARBAM> ET. ERAT. SIMILIS. CAPRO IN. CORPORIS. PARTIBVS. INFERIORIBVS.
PAN. DEVS. RVSTICVS.
TO PAN.
Seated in a woodland glen By a shallow reedy stream Once I fell a-musing, when I was lull'd into a dream.
From the brook a shape arose Half a man and half a goat, Hoofs it had instead of toes And a beard adorn'd its throat.
On a set of rustic reeds Sweetly play'd this hybrid man Naught car'd I for earthly needs, For I knew that this was Pan.
Nymphs & Satyrs gather'd round To enjoy the lively sound.
All too soon I woke in pain And return'd to haunts of men But in rural vales I'd fain Live and hear Pan's pipes again.
# Poemata Minora, Volume II/On the Vanity of Human Ambition

HIC. HOMO. EST. AVARISSIMVS. ET. TVRPISSIMVS. IVDAEVS.
חשע
HOMO. QVIS. PECVNIAM. QVÆRIT.
ON THE VANITY OF HUMAN AMBITION
Apollo, chasing Daphne, gain'd his prize But lo! she turn'd to wood before his eyes. More modern swains at golden prizes aim, And ever strive some worldly thing to claim. Yet 'tis the same as in Apollo's case, For, once attain'd, the purest gold seems base. All that men seek's unworthy of the quest, Yet seek they will, and never pause for rest. True bliss, me thinks, a man can only find In virtuous life, & cultivated mind.
# Poemata Minora, Volume II/To the Old Pagan Religion

​JOVE OR ΖΕΥΣ
IMP. C. VALERIVS. FLAV. CONSTANTINVS. RELIGIONEM. CHRISTIANAM. FALIEBAT. FIDEM. IMPERI. ROMANI. ET. IMP. THEODOSIVS. CVLTVM. DEORVM ANTIQVORVM. PROHIBERAT.
PAGANVS. POSTREMVS.
CVLTVS. DEORVM. ANTIQVORVM.
TO THE OLD PAGAN RELIGION.
Olympian Gods! how can I let ye go And pin my faith to this new Christian creed? Can I resign the deities I know For him who on a cross for man did bleed?
How in my weakness can my hopes depend On one lone God, though mighty be his pow'r? Why can Jove's host no more assistance lend, To soothe my pains, and cheer my troubled hour?
Are there no Dryads on these wooded mounts O'er which I oft in desolation roam? Are there no Naiads in these crystal founts? Nor Nereids upon the Ocean foam?
Fast spreads the new; the older faith declines. The name of Christ resounds upon the air. But my wrack'd soul in solitude repines And gives the Gods their last-receivèd pray'r.
# Poemas ingleses/XII

This is the month and this the day. Ye must not stay. Sally ye out and in warm clusters move To where beyond the trees the belfry's height Does in the blue wide heaven a message prove, Somewhat calm, of delight. Now flushed and whispering loud sally ye out To church! The sun pours on ordered rout, And all their following eyes clasp round the bride: They feel like hands her bosom and her side; Like the inside of vestments next her skin. They round her round and fold each crevice in; They lift her skirts up, as to tease or woo The cleft hid thing below; And this they think at her peeps in their ways And in theis glances plays.
# Poemata Minora, Volume II/Advertisements

POETICAL WORKS OF H. LOVECRAFT.
WORKS FOR CHILDREN.
OTHER VERSES
WORKS OF H. LOVECRAFT IN PROSE.
TAKE THE SCIENTIFIC GAZETTE Pub. Weekly by H. Lovecraft, Chemist
CHEMICAL WORKS OF H. LOVECRAFT
FICTION BY H. LOVECRAFT.
HISTORICAL WORKS BY H. Lovecraft
Lovecraft, Howard Phillips 1902 Poemata Minora
S. P. Q. R. ROMA.
A18786 H. P. Lovecraft Papers
# Poemata Minora, Volume II/Ode to Selene or Diana

ΣΕΛΗΝΗ OR ΑΡΤΕΜΙΣ
LVCE . PVLCHERRIMA. RES . VVLGARES. LVNA . FACIT. NOBILES.
LVNA . CÆLI . REGINA
DIANA . DEA . VIRGO.
LOVECRAFT'S SHORTER POEMS.
ODE TO SELENE OR DIANA
Immortal Moon, in maiden splendour shine. Dispense thy beams, divine Latona's child. Thy silver rays all grosser things refine, And hide harsh Truth in sweet illusion mild.
In thy soft light, the city of unrest That stands so squalid in thy brother's glare Throws off its habit, and in silence blest, Becomes a vision, sparkling bright, and fair.
The modern world, with all it's care & pain, The smoky streets, the hideous clanging mills, Fade 'neath thy beams, Selene and again We dream like shepherds on Chaldea's hills.
Take heed, Diana of my humble plea Convey me where my happiness can last Draw me against the tide of time's rough sea And let my spirit rest amid the past.
# Poemata Minora, Volume II/On the Ruin of Rome

ROMA. REGINA ORBIS. TERRARVM. DECADEBAT. CVM ROMANI. SUCCEDEBANTVR. A. GENTIBVS. INFERIORIBVS.
ROMA. CAPVT MVNDI. DELAPSA.
ON THE RUIN OF ROME
Low dost thou lie, O Rome, neath the foot of the Teuton. Slaves are thy men, and bent to the will of thy conqueror; Whither hath gone, great city, the race that gave law to all nations, Subdu'd the east and the west, and made them bow down to thy consuls. Knew not defeat, but gave it to all who attack'd thee?
Dead! and replac'd by these wretches who cower in confusion Dead! They who gave us this empire to guard and to live in Rome, thou didst fall from thy pow'r with the proud race that made thee, And we, base Italians, enjoy'd what we could not have builded.
# Poemata Minora, Volume II

This collection, written at the age of 11, was self-published in September 1902 with all content, including publisher's marks, drawn out in pencil. The previous collection (Volume I) is not extant.
POEMATA MINORA, OR, MINOR POEMS
BY H. LOVECRAFT
VOL. II
ILLUSTRATED EDITION
VOL I FOR SALE AT 25 CTS.
POEMATA · MINORA · LOVECRAFTIS ·
- VEL -
THE
SHORTER VERSE
OF
H. LOVECRAFT.
VOL. II.
ILLUSTRATED
PROVIDENCE, R.I. THE PROVIDENCE PRESS 454 ANGELL ST. 1902
FIRST EDITION ILLUSTRATED
CONTENTS
DEDICATION
To The Gods, Heroes, & Ideals of the ANCIENTS
THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED BY A GREAT ADMIRER
H. LOVECRAFT.
PREFACE
I submit to the publick these idle lines, hoping they will please.
They form a sort of series with my Odyssey, Iliad, Æneid, and the like.
THE AUTHOR
454 Angell St. Prov. R.I.
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 1937, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 86 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
# Poems, Chiefly Lyrical/Circumstance

CIRCUMSTANCE.
# Poems, Chiefly Lyrical/Dualisms

DUALISMS.
# Poems, Chiefly Lyrical/Claribel

CLARIBEL.
A MELODY.
# Poems, Chiefly Lyrical/A Dirge

A DIRGE.
# Poems, Chiefly Lyrical/Chorus

CHORUS,
IN AN UNPUBLISHED DRAMA, WRITTEN VERY EARLY.
# Poems, Chiefly Lyrical

POEMS,
CHIEFLY LYRICAL,
BY ALFRED TENNYSON.
LONDON: EFFINGHAM WILSON, ROYAL EXCHANGE. CORNHILL.
1830.
London :
Printed by Littlewood and Co. Old Bailey.
* Claribel
* Lilian
* Isabel
* Elegiacs
* The "How" and the "Why"
* Mariana
* To ——
* Madeline
* The Merman
* The Mermaid
* Supposed Confessions of a second-rate sensitive mind not in unity with itself
* The Burial of Love
* To ——
* Song (The Owl) ("When cats run home and light is come")
* Second Song ("Thy tuwhits are lulled I wot")
* Recollections of the Arabian Nights
* Ode to Memory
* Song ("I' the glooming light")
* Song ("A spirit haunts the year's last hours")
* Adeline
* A Character
* Song ("The lintwhite and the throstlecock")
* Song ("Every day hath its night")
* The Poet
* The Poet's Mind
* Nothing will die
* All things will die
* Hero to Leander
* The Mystic
* The Dying Swan
* A Dirge
* The Grasshopper
* Love, Pride and Forgetfulness
* Chorus
* Lost Hope
* The Deserted House
* The Tears of Heaven
* Love and Sorrow
* To a Lady Sleeping
* Sonnet
* Sonnet
* Sonnet
* Sonnet
* Love
* Love and Death
* The Kraken
* The Ballad of Oriana
* Circumstance
* English Warsong
* National Song
* The Sleeping Beauty
* Dualisms
* We are Free
* The Sea-Fairies
* Sonnet to J.M.K.
* οἱ ῥέοντες
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
# Poems, Chiefly Lyrical/A Character

A CHARACTER.
# Poems, Chiefly Lyrical/All things will die

ALL THINGS WILL DIE.
# Poems, Chiefly Lyrical/Elegiacs

ELEGIACS.
# Poems (Blind)/Echoes of Spring

* I.
* II.
* III.
* IV.
* V.
* VI.
* VII.
* VIII.
* IX.
* X.
# Poems (Dickinson)/Apotheosis

XVIII.
APOTHEOSIS.
Come slowly, Eden! Lips unused to thee, Bashful, sip thy jasmines, As the fainting bee,
Reaching late his flower, Round her chamber hums, Counts his nectars—enters,
And is lost in balms!
# Poems (Dickinson)/Belshazzar had a letter

XXV.
Belshazzar had a letter,— He never had but one; Belshazzar's correspondent Concluded and begun In that immortal copy The conscience of us all Can read without its glasses On revelation's wall.
# Poems (Dickinson)/Bequest

II.
BEQUEST.
You left me, sweet, two legacies,— A legacy of love A Heavenly Father would content, Had He the offer of;
You left me boundaries of pain Capacious as the sea, Between eternity and time, Your consciousness and me.
# Poems (Dickinson)/Dawn

XVII.
DAWN.
When night is almost done, And sunrise grows so near That we can touch the spaces, It 's time to smooth the hair
And get the dimples ready, And wonder we could care For that old faded midnight That frightened but an hour.
# Poems (Dickinson)/As children bid the guest good-night

XVII.
As children bid the guest good-night, And then reluctant turn, My flowers raise their pretty lips, Then put their nightgowns on.
As children caper when they wake, Merry that it is morn, My flowers from a hundred cribs Will peep, and prance again.
# Poems (Dickinson)/Beclouded

XXIX.
BECLOUDED.
The sky is low, the clouds are mean, A travelling flake of snow Across a barn or through a rut Debates if it will go.
A narrow wind complains all day How some one treated him; Nature, like us, is sometimes caught Without her diadem.
# Poems (Dickinson)/Apocalypse

XVI.
APOCALYPSE.
I'm wife; I've finished that, That other state; I'm Czar, I'm woman now: It's safer so.
How odd the girl's life looks Behind this soft eclipse! I think that earth seems so To those in heaven now.
This being comfort, then That other kind was pain; But why compare? I'm wife! stop there!
# Poems (Dickinson)/Astra Castra

III.
ASTRA CASTRA
Departed to the judgment, A mighty afternoon; Great clouds like ushers leaning, Creation looking on.
The flesh surrendered, cancelled, The bodiless begun; Two worlds, like audiences, disperse And leave the soul alone.
# Poems (Dickinson)/Autumn

XXVIII.
AUTUMN.
The morns are meeker than they were, The nuts are getting brown; The berry's cheek is plumper, The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf, The field a scarlet gown. Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I'll put a trinket on.
# Poems (Dickinson)/Death and Life

XXV.
DEATH AND LIFE.
Apparently with no surprise To any happy flower, The frost beheads it at its play In accidental power. The blond assassin passes on, The sun proceeds unmoved To measure off another day For an approving God.
# Poems (Merrill)/The Winds do Blow

Jan. 1913.
# Poems (Mitford)/Alterations

ALTERATIONS.
Page 4 Line 6 & 7 for She retired accordingly, read
Page 4 Line 6 & 7 for She retired thither accordingly.
00008 ........... 03 for mossy, read massy.
00044 ........... 04 for tangl'd, read tangled.
00055 ........... 16 for fame, read fane.
00092 ........... 02 for asper, read aspen.
00093 ........... 07 for press, read pass.
# Poems (Mitford)

POEMS
POEMS;
by
MARY RUSSELL MITFORD.
Trema parlando, e i detti
Fa troncji ed imperfetti.
marini.
LONDON:
PRINTED BY A. J. VALPY, TOOK'S COURT, CHANCERY-LANE;
SOLD BY LONGMAN, HURST, REES AND ORME, PATER-NOSTER ROW.
1810.
to
THE HON. WILLIAM HERBERT.
CONTENTS.
Printed by A. J. Valpy, Took's Court,
Chancery Lane, London.
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
# Poems (Harper, 1898)/The Martyr of Alabama

The Martyr of Alabama.
"Tim Thompson, a little negro boy, was asked to dance for the amusement of some white toughs. He refused, saying he was a church member. One of the men knocked him down with a club and then danced upon his prostrate form. He then shot the boy in the hip. The boy is dead; his murderer is still at large."—News Item.
# Poems (Rowe)/La mia Apologia

LA MIA APOLOGIA
FOR remembrance a printed word is better than a faded photograph, and if, when I am no longer here, some friend who loved me, open this little book, I feel that then I should not be really dead. I should live again in their memory.
A wise man of the East once said "Oh! that mine enemy would write a book!" and this ought to make one pause.
But then, I have no enemies. At least I am unconscious of them; so that for me they do not exist.
To my friends who read me, I owe an apology for the slightness of my work, but I know that they will remember that all my working hours have been given to that exacting mistress named Art, and that only as a relaxation I abandoned the brush for the pen.
I am especially proud to be able to have as a frontispiece the splendid work of my friend Sir John Millais; work that will rank in years to come, I venture to prophesy, amongst the best of the Old Masters.
LOUISE JOPLING ROWE.
# Poems (Rowe)/Lux e Tenebris

POEMS
# Phoenix Mutual Life Insurance Company v. Walrath

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
117 U.S. 365
Phoenix Mutual Life Insurance Company v. Walrath
Argued: March 29, 1886. ---
Geo. P. Miller, for plaintiff in error.
J. G. Jenkins, for defendant in error.
WAITE, C. J.

## 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