OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Poems of Cheer/Into Space

If the sad old world should jump a cog Sometime, in its dizzy spinning, And go off the track with a sudden jog, What an end would come to the sinning, What a rest from strife and the burdens of life For the millions of people in it, What a way out of care, and worry and wear, All in a beautiful minute.
As 'round the sun with a curving sweep It hurries and runs and races, Should it lose its balance, and go with a leap Into the vast sea-spaces, What a blest relief it would bring to the grief, And the trouble and toil about us, To be suddenly hurled from the solar world And let it go on without us.
With not a sigh or a sad good-bye For loved ones left behind us, We would go with a lunge and a mighty plunge Where never a grave should find us. What a wild mad thrill our veins would fill As the great earth, like a feather, Should float through the air to God knows where, And carry us all together.
No dark, damp tomb and no mourner's gloom, No tolling bell in the steeple, But in one swift breath a painless death For a million billion people. What greater bliss could we ask than this, To sweep with a bird's free motion Through leagues of space to a resting place, In a vast and vapoury ocean - To pass away from this life for aye With never a dear tie sundered, And a world on fire for a funeral pyre, While the stars looked on and wondered?
# Poems of Cheer/Inevitable

To-day I was so weary and I lay  In that delicious state of semi-waking, When baby, sitting with his nurse at play,  Cried loud for "mamma," all his toys forsaking.
I was so weary and I needed rest,  And signed to nurse to bear him from the room. Then, sudden, rose and caught him to my breast,  And kissed the grieving mouth and cheeks of bloom.
For swift as lightning came the thought to me,  With pulsing heart-throes and a mist of tears, Of days inevitable, that are to be,  If my fair darling grows to manhood's years;
Days when he will not call for "mamma," when  The world, with many a pleasure and bright joy, Shall tempt him forth into the haunts of men  And I shall lose the first place with my boy;
When other homes and loves shall give delight,  When younger smiles and voices will seem best. And so I held him to my heart to-night,  Forgetting all my need of peace and rest.
# Poems of Cheer/Is it done?

It is done! in the fire's fitful flashes,  The last line has withered and curled. In a tiny white heap of dead ashes  Lie buried the hopes of your world. There were mad foolish vows in each letter,  It is well they have shrivelled and burned, And the ring! oh, the ring was a fetter,  It was better removed and returned.
But ah, is it done? In the embers  Where letters and tokens were cast, Have you burned up the heart that remembers,  And treasures its beautiful past? Do you think in this swift reckless fashion  To ruthlessly burn and destroy The months that were freighted with passion,  The dreams that were drunken with joy?
Can you burn up the rapture of kisses  That flashed from the lips to the soul, Or the heart that grows sick for lost blisses  In spite of its strength of control? Have you burned up the touch of warm fingers  That thrilled through each pulse and each vein, Or the sound of a voice that still lingers  And hurts with a haunting refrain?
Is it done? is the life drama ended?  You have put all the lights out, and yet, Though the curtain, rung down, has descended,  Can the actors go home and forget? Ah, no! they will turn in their sleeping  With a strange restless pain in their hearts, And in darkness, and anguish, and weeping,  Will dream they are playing their parts.
# Poems of Cheer/It might have been

We will be what we could be. Do not say,  "It might have been, had not or that, or this." No fate can keep us from the chosen way;  He only might, who IS.
We will do what we could do. Do not dream  Chance leaves a hero, all uncrowned to grieve. I hold, all men are greatly what they seem;  He does, who could achieve.
We will climb where we could climb. Tell me not  Of adverse storms that kept thee from the height. What eagle ever missed the peak he sought?  He always climbs who might.
I do not like the phrase, "It might have been!"  It lacks all force, and life's best truths perverts For I believe we have, and reach, and win,  Whatever our deserts.
# Poems of Cheer/In the crowd

How happy they are, in all seeming,  How gay, or how smilingly proud, How brightly their faces are beaming,  These people who make up the crowd! How they bow, how they bend, how they flutter,  How they look at each other and smile, How they glow, and what bon mots they utter!  But a strange thought has found me the while!
It is odd, but I stand here and fancy  These people who now play a part, All forced by some strange necromancy  To speak, and to act, from the heart. What a hush would come over the laughter!  What a silence would fall on the mirth! And then what a wail would sweep after,  As the night-wind sweeps over the earth!
If the secrets held under and hidden  In the intricate hearts of the crowd Were suddenly called to, and bidden  To rise up and cry out aloud, How strange one would look to another!  Old friends of long standing and years - Own brothers would not know each other,  Robed new in their sorrows and fears.
From broadcloth, and velvet, and laces,  Would echo the groans of despair, And there would be blanching of faces  And wringing of hands and of hair. That man with his record of honour,  That lady down there with the rose, That girl with Spring's freshness upon her,  Who knoweth the secrets of those?
Smile on, O ye maskers, smile sweetly!  Step lightly, bow low and laugh loud! Though the world is deceived and completely,  I know ye, O sad-hearted crowd! I watch you with infinite pity:  But play on, play ever your part, Be gleeful, be joyful, be witty!  'Tis better than showing the heart.
# Poems of Cheer/Let them go

Let the dream go. Are there not other dreams  In vastness of clouds hid from thy sight That yet shall gild with beautiful gold gleams,  And shoot the shadows through and through with light?  What matters one lost vision of the night?  Let the dream go!!
Let the hope set. Are there not other hopes  That yet shall rise like new stars in thy sky? Not long a soul in sullen darkness gropes  Before some light is lent it from on high;  What folly to think happiness gone by!  Let the hope set!
Let the joy fade. Are there not other joys,  Like frost-bound bulbs, that yet shall start and bloom? Severe must be the winter that destroys  The hardy roots locked in their silent tomb.  What cares the earth for her brief time of gloom  Let the joy fade!
Let the love die. Are there not other loves  As beautiful and full of sweet unrest, Flying through space like snowy-pinioned doves?  They yet shall come and nestle in thy breast, And thou shalt say of each, "Lo, this is best!"  Let the love die!
# Poems of Cheer/Leudemanns-on-the-river

Toward even, when the day leans down  To kiss the upturned face of night, Out just beyond the loud-voiced town  I know a spot of calm delight. Like crimson arrows from a quiver  The red rays pierce the waters flowing,  While we go dreaming, singing, rowing To Leudemanns-on-the-River.
The hills, like some glad mocking-bird,  Send back our laughter and our singing, While faint--and yet more faint is heard  The steeple bells all sweetly ringing. Some message did the winds deliver  To each glad heart that August night,  All heard, but all heard not aright, By Leudemanns-on-the-River.
Night falls as in some foreign clime,  Between the hills that slope and rise. So dusk the shades at landing-time,  We could not see each other's eyes. We only saw the moonbeams quiver  Far down upon the stream! that night  The new moon gave but little light By Leudemanns-on-the-River.
How dusky were those paths that led  Up from the river to the hall. The tall trees branching overhead  Invite the early shades that fall. In all the glad blithe world, oh, never  Were hearts more free from care than when  We wandered through those walks, we ten, By Leudemanns-on-the-River.
So soon, so soon, the changes came.  This August day we two alone, On that same river, not the same,  Dream of a night for ever flown. Strange distances have come to sever  The hearts that gaily beat in pleasure,  Long miles we cannot cross or measure - From Leudemanns-on-the-River.
We'll pluck two leaves, dear friend, to-day.  The green, the russet! seems it strange So soon, so soon, the leaves can change!  Ah me! so runs all life away. This night-wind chills me, and I shiver;  The Summer-time is almost past.  One more good-bye--perhaps the last To Leudemanns-on-the-River.
# Poems of Cheer/Life

Life, like a romping schoolboy, full of glee, Doth bear us on his shoulder for a time. There is no path too steep for him to climb. With strong, lithe limbs, as agile and as free, As some young roe, he speeds by vale and sea,  By flowery mead, by mountain peak sublime,  And all the world seems motion set to rhyme, Till, tired out, he cries, "Now carry me!"  In vain we murmur; "Come," Life says, "Fair play!" And seizes on us. God! he goads us so!  He does not let us sit down all the day. At each new step we feel the burden grow, Till our bent backs seem breaking as we go,  Watching for Death to meet us on the way.
# Palmer v. United States

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
65 U.S. 125
Palmer v. United States
THIS was an appeal from the District Court of the United States for the northern district of California.
The case is stated in the opinion of the court.
It was argued by Mr. Benjamin for the appellants, and by Mr. Black (Attorney General) for the United States.
The arguments consisted of comments upon the evidence in the case, which would not be interesting to the profession generally.
Mr. Justice GRIER delivered the opinion of the court.

## 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
# Palmer v. Village of Corning

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
156 U.S. 342
Palmer v. Village of Corning
E. H. Risley, for appellant.
Geo. T. Spencer, for appellee.
Mr. Justice WHITE delivered the opinion of the court.

## 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
# Palmer v. Wainwright

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
374 U.S. 507
Palmer v. Wainwright
Harold L. Palmer, pro se.
Richard W. Ervin, Atty. Gen. of Florida, and James G. Mahorner, Asst. Atty. Gen., for respondent.
On Petition for Writ of Certiorari to the Supreme Court of Florida.
PER CURIAM.

## 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
# Palmer v. Wainwright/Opinion of the Court

* Court Documents
* Case Syllabus
* Opinion of the Court
United States Supreme Court
374 U.S. 507
Palmer v. Wainwright
The motion for leave to proceed in forma pauperis and the petition for writ of certiorari are granted. The judgment is vacated and the case is remanded for further consideration in light of Gideon v. Wainwright, 372 U.S. 335, 83 S.Ct. 792, 9 L.Ed.2d 799.
For opinion on remand see 155 So.2d 543.

## 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
# Poems upon Several Occasions/3

To the King, in the First Year of His Majesty’s Reign.
MAY all thy Years, like this, propitious be, And bring thee Crowns, and Peace, and Victory: Scarce hadst thou Time t' unsheath thy conqu'ring Blade, It did but glitter, and the Rebels fled: Thy Sword, the Safeguard of thy Brother’s Throne, Is now become the Bulwark of thy own.
Aw'd by the Fame, the trembling Nations send Thro’-out the World, to court so brave a Friend; The guilty Senates that refus'd thy Sway Repent their Crime, and hasten to obey; Tribute they raise, and Vows and Off'rings bring, Confess their Phrenzy, and confirm their King.
Who with their Venom over-spread thy Soil, Those Scorpions of the State, present their Oyl.
So the World's Saviour, like a Mortal drest, Altho' by daily Miracles confest, Accus'd of Evil Doctrine by the Jews, Their righful Lord they impiously refuse; But when they saw such Terror in the Skies, The Temple rent, their King in Glory rise, Dread and Amazement seiz'd the trembling Crowd, Who, conscious of their Crime, adoring bow’d.
# Poems upon Several Occasions/30

SONG to MYRA.
FOrsaken of my kindly Stars, Within this melancholy Grove I waste my Days and Nights in Tears, A Victim to ungrateful Love. The happy still untimely end, Death flies from Grief, or why should I So many Hours in Sorrow spend, Wishing, alas! in vain to die? Ye Pow'rs! take Pity of my Pain, Thus, only this, is my Desire;
Ah! take from Myra her Disdain, Or let me with this Sigh expire.
# Poems upon Several Occasions/26

My Lady HYDE.
WHEN fam'd Apelles sought to frame Some Image of th' Idalian Dame, To furnish Graces for the Piece He summon'd all the Nymphs of Greece;
So many Mortals were combin’d, To show how one Immortal shin’d. Had Hyde thus sat by Proxy too, As Venus then was said to do, Venus her self, and all the Train Of Goddesses, had summon’d been; The Painter must have search’d the Skies, To match the Lustre of her Eyes.
Comparing then, while thus we view The ancient Venus, and the new, In her we many Mortals see, As many Goddesses in Thee.
# Poems upon Several Occasions/32

To MYRA.
NAture indulgent, provident, and kind, In all things that excell some Use design'd. The radiant Sun, of ev'ry Heav'nly Light The first, did Myra not dispute that Right,
Sends from above ten thousand Blessings down, Nor is he set so high for Show alone; His Beams reviving with auspicious Fire, Freely we all enjoy what all admire. The Moon and Stars, those faithful Guides of Night, Are plac'd to help, not entertain, the Sight. Plants, Fruits, and Flow'rs the fertile Fields produce, Not for vain Ornament, but wholesome Use; Health they restore, and Nourishment they give, We see with Pleasure, but we taste to live. Then think not, Myra, that thy Form was meant More to create Desire, than to content: Wou'd the just Gods so many Charms provide Only to gratifie a Mortal's Pride? Wou'd they have rais'd thee so above thy Sex Only to play the Tyrant, and to vex? 'Tis impious Pleasure to delight in Harm, And Beauty shou'd be kind, as well as charm.
# Poems upon Several Occasions/25

THYRSIS and DELIA.
THIRSIS.
DElia, how long must I despair, And tax you with Disdain, Still to my tender Love severe, Untouch'd when I complain?
DELIA.
And do with equal Ardour sue, Thyrsis, you know but one can move us; Can I be yours and Strephon's too?
My Eyes view both with mighty Pleasure, Impartial to your high Desert, To both a like Esteem I measure, To one alone can give my Heart.
THYRSIS.
Tell me, Tyrant, why am I, With equal Merit, equal Passion, Thus the Victim chose to die? Why am I The Victim chose to die?
DELIA.
And Fancy Reason over-rules, Or, why shou'd Virtue ever miss Reward, so often given to Fools? 'Tis not the Valiant, nor the Witty, But who alone is born to please, Love does predestinate our Pity; We chuse but whom he first decrees.
# Poems upon Several Occasions/31

SONG to MYRA.
WHY shou'd a Heart so tender break? O Myra! give its Anguish Ease: The Use of Beauty you mistake, Not meant to vex, but please. Those Lips for smiling were design'd, That Bosom to be prest, Your Eyes to languish and look kind, For am'rous Arms your Waste: Each thing has its appointed Right Establish'd by the Powers above; The Sun and Stars give Warmth and Light, The Fair distribute Love.
# Poems upon Several Occasions/27

An Apology for an unseasonable Surprize.
FAirest Zelinda, cease to chide, or grieve, Nor blush at Joys that only you can give. Who with bold Eyes survey’d those matchless Charms, Is punish’d, seeing in another’s Arms. With greedy Looks he views each naked Part, Joy feeds his Sight, but Envy tears his Heart. So caught was Mars, and Mercury aloud Proclaim’d his Grief, that he was not the God:
So to be caught was ev'ry God's Desire; Nor less than Venus can Zelinda fire. Forgive him then, thou more than Heav'nly Fair, Forgive his Rashness, punish'd by Despair. All that we know which wretched Mortals feel In those sad Regions where the Tortur'd dwell, Is that they see the Raptures of the Blest, And view the Joys that they must never taste.
# Poems upon Several Occasions/28

MYRA SINGING.
THE Syrens, once deluded, vainly charm'd; Ty'd to the Mast, Ulysses sail'd unharm'd: Had Myra's Voice entic'd his list'ning Ear, The Greek had stopt, and wou'd have dy'd to hear. When Myra sings, we seek th' enchanting Sound, And bless the Notes that can so sweetly wound: What Musick needs must dwell upon that Tongue, Whose Speech is tuneful as another's Song? Such Harmony, such Wit, a Face so fair, So many pointed Arrows, who can bear? Who from her Wit, or from her Beauty flies, If with her Voice she overtakes him, dies. Like Soldiers so in Battel we succeed, One Peril scaping, by another bleed;
In vain the Dart or glittering Sword we shun, Condemn'd to perish by the slaught'ring Gun.
# Poems upon Several Occasions/29

Myra in her Riding Habit.
WHEN Myra in her Sex's Garb we see, The Queen of Beauty then she seems to be; Now, fair Adonis in this Male-disguise, Or Cupid, killing with his Mother's Eyes: No Style of Empire chang'd by this remove, Who seem'd the Goddess, seems the God of Love.
# Poems upon Several Occasions/33

MYRA's PARROT.
IN those first times, when Nymphs were rude and coy, The Gods disguis'd, laid ambushed for Joy;
From Jove in Feathers, harmless to the Sight, Læda, without a Blush, accepts Delight. Myra, as chaste as Læda, and more fair, Forgive an anxious Lover's jealous Care, And O take heed, for if such Tales were true, The Gods may practise these Designs on you; Their Heav'n and all their Brightness they will quit For any Form, that may to you admit. See, how the wanton Bird, at ev'ry Glance, Spreads his gay plumes, and feels an am'rous Trance; Prest by that Hand, he melts at ev'ry Touch; Prest by that Hand, who wou'd not melt as much? The Queen of Beauty shall forsake the Dove, Henceforth the Parrot be the Bird of Love.
# Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect/The Window freämed wi' Stwone

THE WINDOW FREÄM’D WI’ STWONE.
When Pentridge House wer still the nest O’ souls that now ha’ better rest, Avore the viër burnt to ground His beams an’ walls, that then wer sound, ’Ithin a naïl-bestudded door, An’ passage wi’ a stwonèn vloor, There spread the hall, where zun-light shone In drough a window fream’d wi’ stwone.
A clavy-beam o’ sheenèn woak Did span the he’th wi’ twistèn smoke, Where fleämes did shoot in yollow streaks, Above the brands, their flashèn peaks; An’ aunt did pull, as she did stand O’-tip-tooe, wi’ her lifted hand, A curtain feäded wi’ the zun, Avore the window freäm’d wi’ stwone.
When Hwome-ground grass, below the moon, Wer damp wi’ evenèn dew in June, An’ aunt did call the maïdens in Vrom walkèn, wi’ their shoes too thin, ​They zot to rest their litty veet Upon the window’s woaken seat, An’ chatted there, in light that shone In drough the window freäm’d wi’ stwone.
An’ as the seasons, in a ring, Roll’d slowly roun’ vrom Spring to Spring, An’ brought em on zome holy-tide, When they did cast their tools azide; How glad it meäde em all to spy In Stwonylands their friends draw nigh, As they did know em all by neäme Out drough the window’s stwonèn freäme.
O evenèn zun, a-ridèn drough The sky, vrom Sh’oton Hill o’ blue, To leäve the night a-broodèn dark At Stalbridge, wi’ its grey-wall’d park; Small jaÿ to me the vields do bring, Vor all their zummer birds do zing, Since now thy beams noo mwore do fleäme In drough the window’s stwonèn freäme.
# Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect/The Winter's Willow

Set to music by Ralph Vaughan Williams as “The Winter’s Willow”
THE WINTER’S WILLOW.
There Liddy zot bezide her cow,  Upon her lowly seat, O; A hood did overhang her brow,  Her païl wer at her veet, O; An’ she wer kind, an’ she wer feäir, An’ she wer young, an’ free o’ ceäre; Vew winters had a-blow’d her heäir,  Bezide the Winter’s Willow.
She idden woone a-rear’d in town  Where many a gaÿer lass, O, Do trip a-smilèn up an’ down,  So peäle wi’ smoke an’ gas, O; But here, in yields o’ greäzèn herds, Her väice ha’ mingled sweetest words Wi’ evenèn cheärms o’ busy birds,  Bezide the Winter’s Willow.
An’ when, at last, wi’ beätèn breast,  I knock’d avore her door, O, She ax’d me in to teäke the best  O’ pleäces on the vloor, O; ​An’ smilèn feäir avore my zight, She blush’d bezide the yollow light O’ bleäzèn brands, while winds o’ night  Do sheäke the Winter’s Willow.
An’ if there’s readship in her smile,  She don’t begrudge to speäre, O, To zomebody, a little while,  The empty woaken chair, O; An’ if I’ve luck upon my zide, Why, I do think she’ll be my bride Avore the leaves ha’ twice a-died  Upon the Winter’s Willow.
Above the coach-wheels’ rollèn rims  She never rose to ride, O, Though she do zet her comely lim’s  Above the mare’s white zide, O; But don’t become too proud to stoop An’ scrub her milkèn païl’s white hoop, Or zit a-milkèn where do droop,  The wet-stemm’d Winter’s Willow.
An’ I’ve a cow or two in leäze,  Along the river-zide, O, An’ païls to zet avore her knees,  At dawn an’ evenèn-tide, O; An’ there she still mid zit, an’ look Athirt upon the woody nook Where vu’st I zeed her by the brook  Bezide the Winter’s Willow.
Zoo, who would heed the treeless down,  A-beät by all the storms, O, Or who would heed the busy town,  Where vo’k do goo in zwarms, O; ​If he wer in my house below The elems, where the vier did glow In Liddy’s feäce, though winds did blow  Ageän the Winter’s Willow.
# Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect/The Woodlands

THE WOODLANDS.
O spread ageän your leaves an’ flow’rs,  Lwonesome woodlands! zunny woodlands! Here underneath the dewy show’rs  O’ warm-aïr’d spring-time, zunny woodlands! As when, in drong or open ground, Wi’ happy bwoyish heart I vound The twitt’rèn birds a-buildèn round  Your high-bough’d hedges, zunny woodlands
You gie’d me life, you gie’d me jaÿ,  Lwonesome woodlands! zunny woodlands You gie’d me health, as in my plaÿ  I rambled through ye, zunny woodlands! You gie’d me freedom, vor to rove In aïry meäd or sheädy grove; You gie’d me smilèn Fannèy’s love.  The best ov all o’t, zunny woodlands!
My vu’st shrill skylark whiver’d high,  Lwonesome woodlands! zunny woodlands! To zing below your deep-blue sky  An’ white spring-clouds, O zunny woodlands! An’ boughs o’ trees that woonce stood here, Wer glossy green the happy year ​That gie’d me woone I lov’d so dear,  An’ now ha’ lost, O zunny woodlands!
O let me rove ageän unspied,  Lwonesome woodlands! zunny woodlands! Along your green-bough’d hedges’ zide.  As then I rambled, zunny woodlands! An’ where the missèn trees woonce stood, Or tongues woonce rung among the wood, My memory shall meäke em good,  Though you’ve a-lost em, zunny woodlands!