OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Ante-Nicene Fathers/Volume IX/Origen on John/Origen's Commentary on the Gospel of John/Book II/Chapter 18

18. How God Also is Light, But in a Different Way; And How Life Came Before Light.
The Saviour is here called simply light. But in the Catholic Epistle of this same John we read that God is light. This, it has been maintained, furnishes a proof that the Son is not in substance different from the Father.  Another student, however, looking into the matter more closely and with a sounder judgment, will say that the light which shines in darkness and is not overtaken by it, is not the same as the light in which there is no darkness at all. The light which shines in darkness comes upon this darkness, as it were, and is pursued by it, and, in spite of attempts made upon it, is not overtaken. But the light in which there is no darkness at all neither shines on darkness, nor is at first pursued by it, so as to prove victor and to have it recorded that it was not overtaken by its pursuer. The third designation was “the true light.” But in proportion as God, since He is the Father of truth, is more and greater than truth, and since He is the Father of wisdom is greater and more excellent than wisdom, in the same proportion He is more than the true light. We may learn, perhaps, in a more suggestive manner, how the Father and the Son are two lights, from David, who says in the thirty-fifth Psalm, “In Thy light we shall see light.” This same light of men which shines in darkness, the true light, is called, further on in the Gospel, the light of the world; Jesus says, “I am the light of the world.” Nor must we omit to notice that whereas the passage might very well have run, “That which was made was in Him the light of men, and the light of men was life,” he chose the opposite order. He puts life before the light of men, even if life and the light of men are the same thing; in thinking of those who have part in life, though that life is also the light of men, we are to come first to the fact that they are living the divine life spoken of before; then we come to their enlightenment. For life must come first if the living person is to be enlightened; it would not be a good arrangement to speak of the illumination of one not yet conceived as living, and to make life come after the illumination. For though “life” and “the light” of men are the same thing, the notions are taken separately. This light of men is also called, by Isaiah, “the light of the Gentiles,” where he says, “Behold I have set Thee for a covenant of the generation, for a light of the Gentiles;” and David, placing his confidence in this light, says in the twenty-sixth Psalm, “The Lord is my illumination and my Saviour; whom shall I fear?”

## Footnotes

* ↑ i. 5.
* ↑ Ps. xxxvi. 10.
* ↑ viii. 12.
* ↑ Isa. xlii. 6.
* ↑ Ps. xxvii. 1.
# Ante-Nicene Fathers/Volume IX/Origen on John/Origen's Commentary on the Gospel of John/Book II/Chapter 19

19. The Life Here Spoken of is the Higher Life, that of Reason.
As for those who make up a mythology about the æons and arrange them in syzygies (yokes or pairs), and who consider the Logos and Life to have been emitted by Intellect and Truth, it may not be beside the point to state the following difficulties. How can life, in their system, the yokefellow of the Word, derive his origin from his yokefellow? For “what was made in Him,” he says, evidently referring to the Word, mentioned immediately before, “was life.” Will they tell us how life, the yokefellow, as they say, of the Word, came into being in the Word, and how life rather than the Word is the light of men. It would be quite natural if men of reasonable minds, who are perplexed with such questions and find the point we have raised hard to dispose of, should turn round upon us and invite us to discuss the reason why it is not the Word that is said to be the light of men, but life which originated in the Word. To such an enquiry we shall reply that the life here spoken of is not that which is common to rational beings and to beings without reason, but that life which is added to us upon the completion of reason in us, our share in that life, being derived from the first reason (Logos). It is when we turn away from the life which is life in appearance only, not in truth, and when we yearn to be filled with the true life, that we are made partakers of it, and when it has arisen in us it becomes the foundation of the light of the higher knowledge (gnosis). With some it may be that this life is only potentially and not actually light, with those who do not strive to search out the things of the higher knowledge, while with others it is actually light. With these it clearly is so who act on Paul’s injunction, “Seek earnestly the best gifts;” and among the greatest gifts is that which all are enjoined to seek, namely, the word of wisdom, and it is followed by the word of knowledge. This wisdom and this knowledge lie side by side; into the difference between them this is not a fitting occasion to enquire.
# An Introduction to Yoga/Lecture IV/Chapter 11

The End
What is to be the end of this long struggle? What is the goal of the upward climbing, the prize of the great battle? What does the yogi reach at last? He reaches unity. Sometimes I am not sure that large numbers of people, if they realised what unity means, would really desire to reach it. There are many "virtues" of your ordinary life which will drop entirely away from you when you reach unity. Many things you admire will be no longer helps but hindrances, when the sense of unity begins to dawn. All those qualities so useful in ordinary life—such as moral indignation, repulsion from evil, judgment of others—have no room where unity is realised. When you feel repulsion from evil, it is a sign that your Higher Self is beginning to awaken, is seeing the dangers of evil: he drags the body forcibly away from it. That is the beginning of the conscious moral life. Hatred of evil is better at that stage than indifference to evil. It is a necessary stage. But repulsion cannot be felt when a man has realised unity, when he sees God made manifest in man. A man who knows unity cannot judge another. "I judge no man," said the Christ. He cannot be repelled by anyone. The sinner is himself, and how shall he be repelled from himself? For him there is no "I" or "Thee," for we are one.
This is not a thing that many honestly wish for. It is not a thing that many honestly desire. The man who has realised unity knows no difference between himself and the vilest wretch that walks the earth. He sees only the God that walks in the sinner, and knows that the sin is not in the God but in the sheath. The difference is only there. He who has realised the inner greatness of the Self never pronounces judgment upon another, knows that other as himself, and he himself as that other—that is unity. We talk brotherhood, but how many of us really practice it? And even that is not the thing the yogi aims at. Greater than brotherhood are identity and realisation of the Self as one. The Sixth Root Race will carry brotherhood to the highest point. The Seventh Root Race will know identity, will realise the unity of the human race. To catch a glimpse of the beauty of that high conception, the greatness of the unity in which "I" and "mine," "you" and "yours" have vanished, in which we are all one life, even to do that lifts the whole nature towards divinity, and those who can even see that unity is fair; they are the nearer to the realisation of the Beauty that is God.
# An Introduction to Yoga/Lecture IV/Chapter 4

Attention
Let us consider concentration. You ask a man if he can concentrate. He at once says: "Oh! it is very difficult. I have often tried and failed." But put the same question in a different way, and ask him: "Can you pay attention to a thing?" He will at once say: "Yes, I can do that."
Concentration is attention. The fixed attitude of attention, that is concentration. If you pay attention to what you do, your mind will be concentrated. Many sit down for meditation and wonder why they do not succeed. How can you suppose that half an hour of meditation and twenty- three and a half hours of scattering of thought throughout the day and night, will enable you to concentrate during the half hour? You have undone during the day and night what you did in the morning, as Penelope unravelled the web she wove. To become a Yogi, you must be attentive all the time. You must practice concentration every hour of your active life. Now you scatter your thoughts for many hours, and you wonder that you do not succeed. The wonder would be if you did. You must pay attention every day to everything you do. That is, no doubt, hard to do, and you may make it easier in the first stages by choosing out of your day's work a portion only, and doing that portion with perfect, unflagging attention. Do not let your mind wander from the thing before you. It does not matter what the thing is. It may be the adding up of a column of figures, or the reading of a book. Anything will do. It is the attitude of the mind that is important and not the object before it. This is the only way of learning concentration. Fix your mind rigidly on the work before you for the time being, and when you have done with it, drop it. Practise steadily in this way for a few months, and you will be surprised to find how easy it becomes to concentrate the mind. Moreover, the body will soon learn to do many things automatically. If you force it to do a thing regularly, it will begin to do it, after a time, of its own accord, and then you find that you can manage to do two or three things at the same time. In England, for instance, women are very fond of knitting. When a girl first learns to knit, she is obliged to be very intent on her fingers. Her attention must not wander from her fingers for a moment, or she will make a mistake. She goes on doing that day after day, and presently her fingers have learnt to pay attention to the work without her supervision, and they may be left to do the knitting while she employs the conscious mind on something else. It is further possible to train your mind as the girl has trained her fingers. The mind also, the mental body, can be so trained as to do a thing automatically. At last, your highest consciousness can always remain fixed on the Supreme, while the lower consciousness in the body will do the things of the body, and do them perfectly, because perfectly trained. These are practical lessons of Yoga.
Practice of this sort builds up the qualities you want, and you become stronger and better, and fit to go on to the definite study of Yoga.
# An Introduction to Yoga/Lecture IV/Chapter 5

Obstacles to Yoga
Before considering the capacities needed for this definite practice, let us run over the obstacles to Yoga as laid down by Patanjali.
The obstacles to Yoga are very inclusive. First, disease: if you are diseased you cannot practice Yoga; it demands sound health, for the physical strain entailed by it is great. Then languor of mind: you must be alert, energetic, in your thought. Then doubt: you must have decision of will, must be able to make up your mind. Then carelessness: this is one of the greatest difficulties with beginners; they read a thing carelessly, they are inaccurate. Sloth: a lazy man cannot be a Yogi; one who is inert, who lacks the power and the will to exert himself; how shall he make the desperate exertions wanted along this line? The next, worldly-mindedness, is obviously an obstacle. Mistaken ideas is another great obstacle, thinking wrongly about things. One of the great qualifications for Yoga is "right notion" "Right notion" means that the thought shall correspond with the outside truth; that a man shall he fundamentally true, so that his thought corresponds to fact; unless there is truth in a man, Yoga is for him impossible. Missing the point, illogical, stupid, making the important, unimportant and vice versa. Lastly, instability: which makes Yoga impossible, and even a small amount of which makes Yoga futile; the unstable man cannot be a yogi.
# An Introduction to Yoga/Lecture IV/Chapter 3

The Use of Mantras
Let us see how far we can help ourselves in this difficult work. I will draw your attention to one fact which is of enormous help to the beginner.
Your vehicles are ever restless. Every vibration in the vehicle produces a corresponding change in consciousness. Is there any way to check these vibrations, to steady the vehicle, so that consciousness may be still? One method is the repeating of a mantra. A mantra is a mechanical way of checking vibration. Instead of using the powers of the will and of imagination, you save these for other purposes, and use the mechanical resource of a mantra. A mantra is a definite succession of sounds. Those sounds, repeated rhythmically over and over again in succession, synchronise the vibrations of the vehicles into unity with themselves. Hence a mantra cannot be translated; translation alters the sounds. Not only in Hinduism, but in Buddhism, in Roman Catholicism, in Islam, and among the Parsis, mantras are found, and they are never translated, for when you have changed the succession and order of the sounds, the mantra ceases to be a mantra. If you translate the words, you may have a very beautiful prayer, but not a mantra. Your translation may be beautiful inspired poetry, but it is not a living mantra. It will no longer harmonise the vibrations of the surrounding sheaths, and thus enable the consciousness to become still. The poetry, the inspired prayer, these are mentally translatable. But a mantra is unique and untranslatable. Poetry is a great thing: it is often an inspirer of the soul, it gives gratification to the ear, and it may be sublime and beautiful, but it is not a mantra.
# Anthology of Modern Slavonic Literature in Prose and Verse/Mournful Stanzas

6. MOURNFUL STANZAS.
Let on my brow thy hand so gently fall That I be not aware how late it grows: Moss decks the boulder, bloom-clad is the wall, Through withered grave-yard wreaths a murmur goes, When the November evening earthwards flows. Let on my brow thy hand so gently fall That I be not aware how late it grows.
Long have we gone together.—Go we still; Not roses, but bare ivy give I thee; I ging not nightingales' but wood-birds' trill, The child's lament that strays upon the lea; Thou knowest joy, I know but misery. Long have we gone together.—Go we still, Not roses, but bare ivy give I thee.
When roses fade, the ivy still is whole And around graves it twines in faithful wise: Till death uncages, as a bird, the soul, Long do I crave to kiss thy faithful eyes. When roses fade, the ivy still is whole, And around graves it twines in faithful wise.
Let on my brow thy hand so gently fall, That I be not aware how late it grows; That, what we in long even-tides recall Fill our remaining journey with repose; Thine eyes brought all the peace my being knows. Let on my brow thy hand so gently fall. That I be not aware how late it grows.
"Life and Death" (1892)
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# Anthology of Modern Slavonic Literature in Prose and Verse/My Poetry

2. MY POETRY.
Staidness of marble, coolness the shadow strews, Thou are a still, pale maid, all pondering; Let songs of others be as a woman, whose Wont it is in the unclean streets to sing.
I do not bedizen thee with baubles, nor With yellow roses bespread thy flowing hair; Too beautiful shalt thou be for all to adore, Too proud to live that others may think thee fair.
Be too sorrowful in the grief that is thine, Ever to come with solace to them that pine; Too shamefast ever to lead the jostling throng.
Be ever placid, while thy body holds Not a sumptuous garment in heavy folds, But clusters of riddling mist that hover along.
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# Anthology of Modern Slavonic Literature in Prose and Verse/Now when the king…

* related portals: Modern texts.
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MARYA KONOPNICKA.
1. NOW WHEN THE KING . . .
Now when the king went forth to arms, Trumpets played him shrill alarms; Trumpets played with golden throats, Triumph, gladness in their notes.
But when Tom went out to battle, Clear-eyed springs began to prattle; Murmured, too, the fields of grain Words of anguish, words of pain.
Bullets hiss amid the fight, And the folk like sheaves are mown; While the kings most stoutly fight, Peaeants heap on heap are thrown.
Loud eagles round the banner fly, Where the village crosses swing. Tom is wounded,—left to die, But unscathed returns the king.
And when through gleaming gates he rode, Golden dawning yonder glowed; Bells set chiming far and wide On the sunny country-side.
And when the peasant's pit was made, Rustled trees in distant glade, Chimes came through the oak-grove stealing Of blue-bells and of lilies pealing.
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# Anthology of Modern Slavonic Literature in Prose and Verse/October Sonnet

3. OCTOBER SONNET.
Only an anguished melody still flows From earth where hazes spread a veiling net. . . In every nook the faded beauty stows Her faded blooms, lest springtide she forget.
But the desire, as ere to gladden, glows Within; unchilled her inmost ardour yet, And gaudy sashes round her waist she throws And asters in her tresses she has set.
Fain would she laugh as in her bygone days— But 'mid her wrinkles laughter takes to flight And from them only pity, pity cries. . .
Divining this, perchance she has surmise: A hundred tears each morn her garb displays Shed in the anguish of her sleepless night.
"Autumn Sonnets" (1892).
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# Anthology of Modern Slavonic Literature in Prose and Verse/Nirvana

DMITRI SERGEYEVITCH MEREZHKOVSKY.
*NIRVANA.
As in the day of first creation, The azure skies are calm again, As though the world knew not privation, As though the heart knew naught of pain: For love and fame my craving passes;
'Mid silence of the fields at morn I breathe, as breathe these very grasses . . . O'er days agone, and days unborn I would not chafe, nor reckoning squander. This only do I feel once more: What gladness—ne'er again to ponder, What bliss—to know all yearning o'er.
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# Anthology of Modern Slavonic Literature in Prose and Verse/Northern Triolets

2.* NORTHERN TRIOLETS.
(i.)
Thou earth with guile and irksome woe, Art yet a mother unto me! Mute mother mine, I love thee so, Thou earth with guile and irksome woe! How sweet in earth's embrace to be, Nestling to her when May's aglow! Thou earth with guile and irksome woe, Art yet a mother unto me!
(ii.)
The earth, the earth, ye men, revere, Green secrets of its moistened weeds; Its secret ordinance I hear: —The earth, the earth, ye men, revere, E'en its delights where venom breeds!— Earthy, untaught, I hold it dear. The earth, the earth, ye men, revere, Green secrets of its moistened weeds.
(iii.)
What delight,—from place to place With uncovered feet to fare And a scanty scrip to bear! What delight,—from place to place With austere and humble grace To entwine a tuneful air! What delight,—from place to place With uncovered feet to fare.
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# Anthology of Modern Slavonic Literature in Prose and Verse/O waves of the ocean…

* related portals: Russian literature, Modern texts.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
2.*
O waves of the ocean, akin to the blood in my veins, Ye ever unfettered are coursing to other domains, Ye ever are lonely in chillness of ebb and of flow, And,—alone or united,—we pine in uncomforted woe. Why may I not breathe and course on as a wave of the sea? On earth I am lonely, and cold is the spirit in me, I likewise am speeding to other, to other domains,— O waves of the ocean, akin to the blood in my veins!
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# Appletons' Cyclopædia of American Biography/Parker, Edward Lutwyche

Edition of 1900.
​PARKER, Edward Lutwyche, clergyman, b. in Litchfield, N. H., 28 July, 1785; d. in Derry, N. H., 14 July, 1850. He was graduated at Dartmouth in 1807, and studied divinity at Hanover, N. H., and subsequently at Thetford, Vt., and Salem, Mass. From 1819 until his death he was pastor of the Presbyterian church in Londonderry, N. H. He published ten occasional sermons, and left a “History of Londonderry,” which was printed, with a memoir (Boston, 1851).
# Appletons' Cyclopædia of American Biography/Parker, Horatio Gilbert

Edition of 1900. Supplement.
PARKER, Horatio Gilbert, Canadian novelist, b. in Addington, Ontario, 12 April, 1859. After being employed in teaching several years he was ordained deacon in 1882, and in the following year was graduated at Toronto university, which in June, 1898, gave him the degree of LL. D. Later he was a curate and held a position in the deaf and dumb institute of Belleville. In 1886 he went to Australia, where he was an associate editor of the “Sydney Evening Herald.” and where he wrote several plays. Removing to England, he entered upon a literary career, and has since spent a portion of his time in Canada and the United States, where, in 1895, he married an American. In the winter of 1897-8 Mr. Parker visited Egypt and the Holy Land. His principal works are “A Lover's Diary,” a volume of poems and sonnets (1890); “Pierre and his People” (1892); “The Translation of a Savage,” “Chief Factor,” and “The Trespasser” (1893); “The Trail of the Sword” and “Mrs. Falchion” (1894); “When Valmond came to Pontiac” (1895); “The Seats of the Mighty” and “Romany of the Snows” (1896); “Pomp of the Lavilettes ” (1897); “Battle of the Strong” and “The Adventures of the North” (1898); and “Hill of Pains” (1899).
# Appletons' Cyclopædia of American Biography/Parker, Alton Brooks

Edition of 1900. Supplement.
PARKER, Alton Brooks, jurist, b. in Cortland, N. Y., 14 May, 1851. He is the son of a farmer, and at the age of sixteen taught school with a view to educating himself without cost to his father. While teaching in Ulster county he studied law in a Kingston office, graduating bom the Albany law-school in 1872. Five years later he was elected surrogate of Ulster county, being re-elected for six years in 1883. He was a delegate to the Democratic national convention which nominated Gov. Cleveland for president, and aided in the election of David B. Hill as his successor. When Judge Westbrook of the supreme court died, in 1885, Gov. Hill appointed Parker his successor. His election followed the next, year, and in January, 1889, he was appointed to the court of appeals, being the youngest man who ever sat on that bench. He retained this office till the dissolution of the court in 1892. Then, at the request of other judges, he was appointed by Gov. Flower a member of the general term of the supreme court of the first department, and continued at work in New York city until the creation of the appellate division of the supreme court, when he resumed the duties of the trial terms in his own district. In 1897 Judge Parker was a member of the appellate division of the supreme court in New York city part of the year in consequence of the illness of Judge Barrett and in November of that same year he was elected chief judge of the court of appeals.