OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# A Poem of Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in The Atheneum, 1829/Hymn of the Calabrian Shepherds to the Virgin

HYMN OF THE CALABRIAN SHEPHERDS TO THE VIRGIN.
BY L. E. L.
A peasant group, whose lips are full of prayer
And hearts of home affections, such as flow
So naturally in piety.
Darker and darker fall around
 The shadows from the pine,
It is the hour with hymn and prayer
 To gather round thy shrine.
Hear us, sweet Mother! thou hast known
 Our earthly hopes and fears,
The bitterness of mortal toil,
 The tenderness of tears.
We pray thee first for absent ones,
 Those who knelt with us here—
The father, brother, and the son,
 The distant, and the dear.
We pray thee for the little bark
 Upon the stormy sea;
Affection's anxiousness of love,
 Is it not known to thee?
The soldier, he who only sleeps
 His head upon his brand,
Who only in a dream can see
 His own beloved land.
The wandering minstrel, he who gave
 Thy hymns his earliest tone,
Who strives to teach a foreign tongue
 The music of his own.
Kind Mother, let them see again
 Their own Italian shore;
Back to the home, which wanting them,
 Seems like a home no more.
Madonna, keep the cold north wind
 Amid his native seas,
So that no withering blight come down
 Upon our olive trees.
And bid the sunshine glad our hills,
 The dew rejoice our vines,
And bid the healthful sea-breeze sweep
 In music through the pines.
Pray for us, that our hearts and homes
 Be kept in fear and love;
Love for all things around our path,
 And fear for those above.
Thy soft blue eyes are filled with tears,
 Oh! let them wash away
The soil of our unworthiness,—
 Pray for us, Mother, pray!
We know how vain the fleeting flowers,
 Around thine altar hung;
We know how humble is the hymn
 Before thine image sung.
But wilt thou not accept the wreath,
 And sanctify the lay;
We trust to thee, our hopes and fears,—
 Pray for us, Mother, pray!
# A Poem of Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in The Cabinet of Modern Art, 1836

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
This work is available under the Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication.
The person who associated a work with this deed has dedicated the work to the public domain by waiving all of their rights to the work worldwide under copyright law, including all related and neighboring rights, to the extent allowed by law. You can copy, modify, distribute and perform the work, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
A Poem of Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in The Cabinet of Modern Art, 1836
compiled by Peter J. Bolton
* Fairies on the Sea Shore
# A Poem of Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in The Amulet, 1829/Change

CHANGE.
BY L. E. L.
The wind is sweeping o'er the hill;
 It hath a mournful sound,
As if it felt the difference
 Its weary wing hath found.
A little while that wandering wind
 Swept over leaf and flower:
For there was green for every tree,
 And bloom for every hour.
It wandered through the pleasant wood,
 And caught the dove's lone song;
And by the garden beds, and bore
 The rose's breath along.
But hoarse and sullenly it sweeps;
 No rose is opening now—
No music, for the wood-dove's nest
 Is vacant on the bough.
Oh, human heart and wandering wind,
 Go look upon the past;
The likeness is the same with each,
 Their summer did not last.
Each mourns above the things it loved—
 One o'er a flower and leaf;
The other over hopes and joys,
 Whose beauty was as brief.
# A Poem of Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in The Amulet, 1830

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
This work is available under the Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication.
The person who associated a work with this deed has dedicated the work to the public domain by waiving all of their rights to the work worldwide under copyright law, including all related and neighboring rights, to the extent allowed by law. You can copy, modify, distribute and perform the work, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
A Poem of Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in The Amulet, 1830
compiled by Peter J. Bolton
* The Unknown Poet's Grave
* Portrait—The Minstrel of Chamouni (Pickersgill)
# A Poem of Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in The Amulet, 1830/Portrait

Painting based on a portrait of Letitia Landon
THE MINSTREL OF CHAMOUNI
Painted by H. W. Pickersgill R. A.Engraved by John H. Robinson
# A Poem of Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in The Atheneum, 1829

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
This work is available under the Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication.
The person who associated a work with this deed has dedicated the work to the public domain by waiving all of their rights to the work worldwide under copyright law, including all related and neighboring rights, to the extent allowed by law. You can copy, modify, distribute and perform the work, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
A Poem of Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in
The Atheneum, 1829
collected by Peter J. Bolton
* Hymn of the Calabrian Shepherds to the Virgin
Poem from The Atheneum, 3rd Series, Vol. II (April-September 1829), page 424 Most items in this periodical are taken from current British publications. However, no source is identified for this poem and one has not so far been traced. It may therefore be original.
In America it also appears in: The Museum of Foreign Literature and Science, Vol.15, 1829, page 382 and: American Masonick Record and Albany Saturday Magazine, 1830, page 280
# A Poem of Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in The Amulet, 1830/Unknown Grave

THE UNKNOWN POET'S GRAVE.
BY L. E. L.
"In the divine land which he had so yearned to tread—in the purple air in which poesy and inspiration mingled with the common breath and atmosphere of life—his restless and unworldly spirit sighed itself away: and the heart which silence and concealment had been long breaking broke at last." THE DISOWNED.
There is no memory of his fate,  No record of his name; A few wild songs are left behind—  But what are they to fame? No one will gaze upon the scene, Remembering—but there he has been.
Not his the memory that makes  A shrine of every place, Wherever step or song of his  Had left their deathless trace; None say "'twas here his burning line Was dreamed—and hence is all divine."
Yet here thy step has often been,  And here thy songs were sung; Here were thy beating heart and lute  Chord after chord unstrung; Thy dying breath was on this air— It hath not left its music there.
No:—nameless is the lowly spot  Where that young poet sleeps; No glory lights its funeral lamp,  No pity on it weeps; There weeds may grow, or flowers may bloom, For his is a forgotten tomb.
And yet how often those dark pines,  Once heard thy twilight song; 'Twas written on those autumn leaves  The wild winds bear along. Of all who gaze on Tivoli, Who is there that remembers thee?
That dark-eyed lady, she who taught  Thy most impassioned tone; The spirit of thy poetry—  Her fate has been thine own: A weary brow, a faded cheek, A heart that only beat to break.
Thy friends, thou wert too delicate  For many to be thine; And like words written on the sands  Are those on Friendship's shrine: A few set words, a few vain tears, And so is clos'd the faith of years.
The world it had no part in thee;  Too sensitive to bear Unkindness or repulse; too true  The usual mask to wear: Alas! the gold too much refined, Is not for common use designed.
Thy dreams of fame were vague and void,  The mystery of a star, Whose glory lifted us from earth,  The beautiful, the far; And yet these dreams of fame to thee Were dearer than reality.
Alas! e'en these have been in vain,  The prize has not been won; Thy lute is a forgotten lute,—  Thy name, a nameless one: The wild wind in the pine tree bough, Is all the requiem for thee now.
And I, who, in vain sympathy,  These mournful words have said, Not mine the hand that can bestow  The laurel on the dead: I only know thy nameless fate To me seems life's most desolate.
Methinks it is not much to die—  To die, and leave behind A spirit in the hearts of men  A voice amid our kind; When fame and death, in unison, Have giv'n thousand lives for one.
Our thoughts, we live again in them,  Our nature's noblest part; Our life in many a memory,  Our home in many a heart: When not a lip that breathes our strain, But calls us into life again.
No, give me some green laurel leaves  To float down memory's wave; One tone remain of my wild songs,  To sanctify my grave; And then but little should I care How soon within that grave I were.
# A Poem of Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in The Amulet, 1829

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
This work is available under the Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication.
The person who associated a work with this deed has dedicated the work to the public domain by waiving all of their rights to the work worldwide under copyright law, including all related and neighboring rights, to the extent allowed by law. You can copy, modify, distribute and perform the work, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
A Poem Of Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in The Amulet, 1829
compiled by Peter J. Bolton
* Change
# A Poem of Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in The Cabinet of Modern Art, 1836/Fairies on the Sea Shore

* FAIRIES ON THE SEA SHORE
* From a sketch by Henry Howard R. A.Engraved by E. Goodall
FAIRIES ON THE SEA SHORE.
BY L. E. L.
FIRST FAIRY. My home and haunt are in every leaf, Whose life is a summer day, bright and brief,— I live in the depths of the tulip's bower, I wear a wreath of the cistus flower, I drink the dew of the blue harebell, I know the breath of the violet well,— The white and the azure violet; But I know not which is the sweetest yet,— I have kiss'd the cheek of the rose, I have watched the lily unclose, My silver mine is the almond tree, Who will come dwell with flower and me?
CHORUS OF FAIRIES.  Dance we our round, 'tis a summer night, And our steps are led by the glow-worms' light.
SECOND FAIRY.  My dwelling is in the serpentine Of the rainbow's colour'd line,—
See how its rose and amber clings To the many hues of my radiant wings; Mine is the step that bids the earth Give to the iris flower its birth, And mine the golden cup to hide, Where the last faint hue of the rainbow died. Search the depths of an Indian mine, Where are the colours to match with mine?
CHORUS.  Dance we round, for the gale is bringing Songs the summer rose is singing.
THIRD FAIRY.  I float on the breath of a minstrel's lute, Or the wandering sounds of a distant flute, Linger I over the tones that swell From the pink-vein'd chords of an ocean-shell; I love the sky-lark's morning hymn, Or the nightingale heard at the twilight dim, The echo, the fountain's melody,— These, oh! these are the spells for me!
CHORUS.  Hail to the summer night of June; See! yonder has risen our ladye moon.
FOURTH FAIRY.  My palace is in the coral cave Set with spars by the ocean wave; Would ye have gems, then seek them there,— There found I the pearls that bind my hair.
I and the wind together can roam Over the green waves and their white foam,— See, I have got this silver shell, Mark how my breath will its smallness swell, For the Nautilus is my boat In which I over the waters float,— The moon is shining over the sea, Who is there will come sail with me?
CHORUS OF FAIRIES.  Our noontide sleep is on leaf and flower, Our revels are held in a moonlit hour,— What is there sweet, what is there fair, And we are not the dwellers there? Dance we round, for the morning light Will put us and our glow-worm lamps to flight!*
* These beautiful lines are extracted from an early volume of Miss Landon's Poems, ("The Troubadour.") They were written a short time after the picture was painted. Mr. Howard's "Fairies on the Sea Shore" was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1825; and is the property of Sir Matthew White Ridley.
# A Rose Will Fade

“You were always a dreamer, Rose, red Rose…”
* Shorter, Dora Sigerson (1893), "A Rose Will Fade" in Verses
* Shorter, Dora Sigerson (1907), "A Rose Will Fade" in The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter
# A Roster of General Officers/Brigadier-Generals

* A–F
* G–L
* M–V
* W–Z
# Adventures in Thrift

Adventures in Thrift
By Anna Steese Richardson
Illustrated by Charles S. Corson
Indianapolis The Bobbs-Merrill Company Publishers
Press of Braunworth & Co. Bookbinders and printers Brooklyn, N. Y.
* Preface
* Chapter 1
* Chapter 2
* Chapter 3
* Chapter 4
* Chapter 5
* Chapter 6
* Chapter 7
* Chapter 8
* Chapter 9
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 1949, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 74 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
# A Treatise on Painting/Chapter 84

Chap. LXXXIV.—Objection to the above answered, Plate XI. and XII.
It has been objected, in regard to the first part of the above proposition, that it does not follow that a man standing still, or moving slowly, has his members always in perfect balance upon the centre of gravity; because we do not find that Nature always follows that rule, but, on the contrary, the figure will sometimes bend sideways, standing upon one foot; sometimes it will rest part of its weight upon that leg which is bent at the knee, as is seen in the figures B C. But I shall reply thus, that what is not performed by the shoulders in the figure C, is done by the hip, as is demonstrated in another place.
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# A Treatise on Painting/Chapter 87

Chap. LXXXVII.—Of the Shoulders.
London Published by J. Taylor High Holborn.
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# A Treatise on Painting/Chapter 89

Chap. LXXXIX.—Of the Disposition of Members preparing to act with great Force, Plate XIV.
When a man prepares himself to strike a violent blow, he bends and twists his body as far as he can ​to the side contrary to that which he means to strike, and collecting all his strength, he, by a complex motion, returns and falls upon the point he has in view.
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# A Treatise on Painting/Chapter 82

Chap. LXXXII.—Of Motion.
Whether a man moves with velocity or slowness, the parts above the leg which sustains the weight, will always be lower than the others on the opposite side.
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# A Treatise on Painting/Chapter 83

Chap. LXXXIII.—The Level of the Shoulders.
London, Published by J. Taylor High Holborn.
London Published by J. Taylor High Holborn.
London, Published by J. Taylor High Holborn.
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# A Treatise on Painting/Chapter 85

Chap. LXXXV.—Of the Position of Figures, Plate XIII.
In the same proportion as that part of the naked figure marked D A, lessens in height from the shoulder to the hip, on account of its position the opposite side increases. And this is the reason: the figure resting upon one (suppose the left) foot, that foot becomes the centre of all the weight above; and the pit of the neck, formed by the junction of the two Clavicles, quits also its natural situation at the upper ex​tremity of the perpendicular line (which passes through the middle surface of the body), to bend over the same foot; and as this line bends with it, it forces the transverse lines, which are always at right angles, to lower their extremities on that side where the foot rests, as appears in A B C. The navel and middle parts always preserve their natural height.
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# A Treatise on Painting/Chapter 88

Chap. LXXXVIII.—Of the Motions of a Man.
When you mean to represent a man removing a weight, consider that the motions are various, viz. either a simple motion, by bending himself to raise the weight from the ground upwards, or when he drags the weight after him, or pushes it before him, or pulls it down with a rope passing through a pulley. It is to be observed, that the weight of the man’s body pulls the more in proportion as the centre of his gravity is removed from the centre of his support. To this must be added the strength of the effort that the legs and back make when they are bent, to return to their natural straight situation.
A man never ascends or descends, nor walks at all in any direction, without raising the heel of the back foot.
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# A Treatise on Painting/Chapter 81

Chap. LXXXI.—Of Equilibrium.
Any figure bearing an additional weight out of the central line, must throw as much natural or accidental weight on the opposite side as is sufficient to form a counterpoise round that line, which passes from the pit of the neck, through the whole mass of weight, to that part of the foot which rests upon the ground. We observe, that when a man lifts a weight with one arm, he naturally throws out the opposite arm; and if that be not enough to form an equipoise, he will add as much of his own weight, by bending his body, as will enable him to resist such accidental load. We see also, that a man ready to fall sideways and backwards at the same time, always throws out the arm on the opposite side.
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# A Treatise on Painting/Chapter 86

Chap. LXXXVI.—Of the Joints.
In the bending of the joints it is particularly useful to observe the difference and variety of shape they assume; how the muscles swell on one side, while they flatten on the other; and this is more apparent in the neck, because the motion of it is of three sorts, two of which are simple motions, and the other complex, participating also of the other two.
The simple motions are, first, when the neck bends towards the shoulder, either to the right or left, and when it raises or lowers the head. The second is, when it twists to the right or left, without rising or bending, but straight, with the head turned towards one of the shoulders. The third motion, which is called complex, is, when to the bending of it is added the twisting, as when the ear leans towards one of the shoulders, the head turning the same way, and the face turned upwards.
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# A Treatise on Painting/Chapter 9

Chap. XI.—The Difference of Proportion between Children and grown Men.
In men and children I find a great difference between the joints of the one and the other in the length of the bones. A man has the length of two heads from the extremity of one shoulder to the other, the same from the shoulder to the elbow, and from the elbow to the fingers; but the child has only one, because Nature gives the proper size first to the seat of the intellect, and afterwards to the other parts.
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# Abraham Lincoln

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Abraham Lincoln."
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, Wikidata item.
This is a disambiguation page. It lists works that share the same title. If an article link referred you here, please consider editing it to point directly to the intended page.
* "Abraham Lincoln: A Horatian Ode" (1865), poem by Richard Henry Stoddard
* Abraham Lincoln: A History (1890) by John G. Nicolay and John Hay
* Abraham Lincoln: An Essay (1891) by Carl Schurz
* "Abraham Lincoln" (1908), a poem by Edmund Clarence Stedman
* Abraham Lincoln: A Story and a Play (1914), a play by Mary Hazelton Wade
* Abraham Lincoln (1930), a sound film
* Abraham Lincoln: His Life (1918), by Marcus Ahlenfeld Goldsmith
* Abraham Lincoln: His Story (1918), by Samuel Scoville

## See also

* Author:Abraham Lincoln, 16th President of the United States. This page includes works by Lincoln and other works about him
# Abraham Davenport

In the old days (a custom laid aside
With breeches and cocked hats) the people sent
Their wisest men to make the public laws.
And so, from a brown homestead, where the Sound
Drinks the small tribute of the Mianus,
Waved over by the woods of Rippowams,
And hallowed by pure lives and tranquil deaths,
Stamford sent up to the councils of the State
Wisdom and grace in Abraham Davenport.
'Twas on a May-day of the far old year
Seventeen hundred eighty, that there fell
Over the bloom and sweet life of the Spring
Over the fresh earth and the heaven of noon,
A horror of great darkness, like the night
In day of which the Norland sagas tell,
The Twilight of the Gods. The low-hung sky
Was black with ominous clouds, save where its rim
Was fringed with a dull glow, like that which climbs
The crater's sides from the red hell below.
Birds ceased to sing, and all the barnyard fowls
Roosted; the cattle at the pasture bars
Lowed, and looked homeward; bats on leathern wings
Flitted abroad; the sounds of labor died;
Men prayed, and women wept; all ears grew sharp
To hear the doom-blast of the trumpet shatter
The black sky, that the dreadful face of Christ
Might look from the rent clouds, not as He looked
A loving guest at Bethany, but stern
As Justice and inexorable Law.
Meanwhile in the old State House, dim as ghosts,
Sat the lawgivers of Connecticut,
Trembling beneath their legislative robes.
"It is the Lord's Great Day! Let us adjourn,"
Some said; and then, as if with one accord,
All eyes were turned to Abraham Davenport.
He rose, slow cleaving with his steady voice
The intolerable hush. "This well may be
The Day of Judgment which the world awaits;
But be it so or not, I only know
My present duty, and my Lord's command
To occupy till He come. So at the post
Where He hast set me in His providence,
I choose, for one, to meet Him face to face,
No faithless servant frightened from my task,
But ready when the Lord of the harvest calls;
And therefore, with all reverence, I would say,
Let God do His work, we will see to ours.
Bring in the candles." And they brought them in.
Then by the flaring lights the Speaker read,
Albeit with husky voice and shaking hands,
An act to amend an act to regulate
The shad and alewive fisheries, Whereupon
Wisely and well spake Abraham Davenport,
Straight to the question, with no figures of speech
Save the ten Arab signs, yet not without
The shrewd dry humor natural to the man:
His awe-struck colleagues listening all the while,
Between the pauses of his argument,
To hear the thunder of the wrath of God
Break from the hollow trumpet of the cloud.
And there he stands in memory to this day,
Erect, self-poised, a rugged face, half seen
Against the background of unnatural dark,
A witness to the ages as they pass,
That simple duty hath no place for fear.
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
# Abraham Lincoln's Farewell Address

Delivered at Springfield, Illinois, on February 11, 1861, before embarking on his inaugural journey to Washington.
My friends, no one, not in my situation, can appreciate my feeling of sadness at this parting. To this place, and the kindness of these people, I owe everything. Here I have lived a quarter of a century, and have passed from a young to an old man. Here my children have been born, and one is buried. I now leave, not knowing when, or whether ever, I may return, with a task before me greater than that which rested upon Washington. Without the assistance of that Divine Being who ever attended him, I cannot succeed. With that assistance I cannot fail. Trusting in Him who can go with me, and remain with you, and be everywhere for good, let us confidently hope that all will yet be well. To His care commending you, as I hope in your prayers you will commend me, I bid you an affectionate farewell.