OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 127/Issue 1646/Similitudes

* SIMILITUDES.
* Sublimely calm — her only wish to know —
* In her unswerving glance nor fear nor ruth,
* Reckless how sun may shine, or storms may blow.
* Stands, like an adamantine statue, Truth.
* See, in the kindling east that cloudlet grey.
* Touched by the dawn, a heavenly gem appears;
* Thus Hope floats lucent in life's early ray,
* Thus, too, or yet 'tis noon, oft falls in tears.
* Full many a mimic part doth Love sustain
* And aptly act in aspect, mien, and breath;
* But his chief characters are Grief and Pain,
* And often, too, he shows himself as Death.
* O'er rugged roads doth Reason slow advance,
* Pondering each step with face to earth inclined,
* Yet sometimes will he raise a longing glance,
* And list Faith's wordless promise on the wind.
* J. S. D.
* Spectator.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 134/Issue 1733

LITTELL'S LIVING AGE.
| Fifth Series, Volume XIX. | $\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,$ | No. 1733. — September 1, 1877. | $\scriptstyle {\left\{{\begin{matrix}\ \end{matrix}}\right.}$ | From Beginning Vol. CXXXIV. |
CONTENTS. :
| I. | Venice Defended, | Edinburgh Review, | 515 |
| II. | Green Pastures and Piccadilly. By William Black. Part XXVI., | Harper's Bazar, | 533 |
| III. | Life and Times of Thomas Becket. By James Anthony Froude. Part III., | Nineteenth Century, | 540 |
| IV. | Carita. By Mrs. Oliphant, author of "Chronicles of Carlingford," "Zaidee," etc.Conclusion, | Cornhill Magazine, | 543 |
| V. | A Scottish "Elia", | Macmillan's Magazine, | 561 |
| VI. | King John of Ethiopia, | Spectator, | 570 |
| VII. | An Obsolete Virtue, | Examiner, | 574 |
| VIII. | About Bees, | Ladies' Treasury, | 576 |
POETRY. :
| Regained, | 514 | Sonnet, | 514 |
| Died Happy, | 514 | To the Empress of India, | 514 |
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 134/Issue 1733/Died Happy

* DIED HAPPY.
* BY THE AUTHOR OF "JOHN HALIFAX, GENTLEMAN."
* You say, O friends! that I am strangely altered;
* My dying youth has won the calm of age;
* Sweet strength has come into my voice, that faltered.
* And why? Because my life has turned a page
* After that day.
* A page — you could not trace the 'writing in it, —
* So blurred and blotted, faded and obscure;
* Yet angels, looking down one golden minute,
* Can read it all, with smile content and pure
* As mine that day.
* Dear sisters, walking in our pleasant garden,
* Whiter than lilies, rosier than the rose,
* And almost of my pale lot asking pardon, —
* Wherefore? When I might pity you, God knows,
* After that day.
* I have no fear of life and all its noises,
* Or silent death, since more than life it brings,
* In halcyon nest midst earth's tumultuous voices,
* My soul sits quiet, folds her wings, and sings,
* After that day.
* Good Words.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 134/Issue 1731/Sleep

* SLEEP.
* Beautiful up from the deeps of the solemn sea,
* Cometh sweet Sleep to me;
* Up from the silent deeps,
* Where no one waits and weeps:
* Cometh, as one who clreameth,
* With slowly waving hands;
* And the sound of her raiment seemeth
* Like waves on the level sands.
* There is rest for all mankind,
* As her slow wings stir the wind;
* With lullaby the drowsy waters creep
* To kiss the "feet of Sleep.
* Blackwood's Magazine.J. R. S.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 134/Issue 1731/The Melancholy Ocean

* THE MELANCHOLY OCEAN.
* Far off, amid the melancholy main. — Milton. Inhabiting an island washed by a melancholy ocean. — "Vivian Grey."
* Oh! the salt Atlantic breezes,
* How they sweep reviving through me;
* How their freshening spirit seizes
* Soul and sense, to raise, renew me!
* Oh! the grand Atlantic surges,
* How they march, and mount, and mingle;
* How their spray, exulting, scourges
* Jutty cliff and sandy dingle!
* Talk of melancholy ocean, —
* If thou feelest wane and wither
* Every germ of glad emotion,
* Come, O Vivian Grey! come thither.
* Sit and mark the matchless glory
* Of the clouds that overshade us,
* Afreets of the Eastern story,
* Titans such as Keats portrayed us, —
* Till majestically blending,
* Folded on the western billow,
* They await their lord's descending,
* Strewing his imperial pillow.
* Not in youth's intoxication,
* Not in manhood's strange successes,
* Didst thou drink an inspiration
* Such as here the heart confesses.
* Here, where joy surrounds thee wholly,
* If thy thought a moment listens
* To intruding melancholy,
* It is born of reminiscence, —
* Of the old forsaken causes,
* Of the higher fame's bereavement,
* Of a lifetime of applauses,
* Barren, barren of achievement;
* Genius in ignoble traces,
* Leading ranks whom thou despisest,
* Till thy self-willed fate effaces
* All that in thy soul thou prizest;
* For the prophet's fire and motion,
* Icy mask and sneer sardonic, —
* Be it so. — Majestic Ocean,
* Thou art melancholy's tonic.
* Spectator.O.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 134/Issue 1732

LITTELL'S LIVING AGE.
| Fifth Series, Volume XIX. | $\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,$ | No. 1732. — August 25, 1877. | $\scriptstyle {\left\{{\begin{matrix}\ \end{matrix}}\right.}$ | From Beginning Vol. CXXXIV. |
CONTENTS. :
| I. | The Life and Correspondence of Kleber, | Edinburgh Review, | 451 |
| II. | Fanchette, the Goat of Boulainvilliers. An Episode of the Siege of Paris, | Chambers' Journal, | 467 |
| III. | North-Country Naturalists, | Edinburgh Review, | 470 |
| IV. | Discovery of Lamb's "Poetry for Children", | Gentleman's Magazine, | 485 |
| V. | Bassano, | Fraser's Magazine, | 491 |
| VI. | Green Pastures and Piccadilly. By William Black. Part XXV., | Harper's Bazar, | 499 |
| V. | Diamonds, | Spectator, | 509 |
POETRY. :
| A Protest, | 450 | "Harmony", | 450 |
| A Burial at Highgate, | 450 | | |
| Miscellany, | Miscellany, | Miscellany, | 512 |
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 134/Issue 1732/"Harmony"

* "HARMONY" (by Frank Dicksee).
* No. 14, in the Royal Academy.
* She sang until she stood, a pure white soul,
* Within the open gates of Paradise;
* And he, the listener, saw through her clear eyes
* Life's loveliness. The warm light downward stole
* Through golden hair that made an aureole
* For her uplifted face, which lilywise
* Rose o'er a leaf-hued gown. Her song did rise
* Accordant with a certain ancient scroll,
* Whence she had learned it once, with vague regret
* For the musician, dead ere she was born.
* The harmony he dreamed had been so sweet,
* That as he stood in heaven he heard it yet, —
* Like God, who in creation's primal morn
* Had made earth's melody therewith complete.
* Spectator.A. Matheson
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 134/Issue 1732/A Burial at Highgate

* A BURIAL AT HIGHGATE. — July 23.
* [In Memoriam L. Y. P., Twin Sister of Mrs. Julius
* Hare, ob. July 17, 1877.]
* True twin in heart of that pure soul,
* True sharer in that saintly life,
* Thy suffering now is past, and strife
* Finds issue at the victor's goal.
* Thine now the joy, the love, the hope
* Of those who see with vision clear
* The purpose working far and near,
* The thousand paths that upward slope.
* Through mists and darkness, weal and woe,
* To where nought endeth incomplete,
* Where all the loved and lost ones meet,
* And love is more than we can know.
* And, there the sister-spirits rest,
* And tell of sorrows that have taught
* The lesson, all so dearly bought,
* In blessing others, to be blest, —
* With words of hope, and peerless skill
* To raise weak souls from their despair,
* To breathe awhile serener air
* Above the clouds of passing ill.
* And he is there who taught our youth,
* Husband and brother, child of light,
* Whose faith victorious ends in sight,
* Knowing, not guessing, now the truth.
* And he, the prophet, priest, and sage,
* Whose voice still rings in listening ears,
* Who bade us cast away our fears,
* Nor heed, though wild storms round us rage, —
* He, too, is there; and can we dream
* Their joy is other now than when
* They dwelt among the sons of men,
* As walking in the eternal gleam?
* Are there no souls behind the veil
* That need the help of guiding hand;
* Weak hearts that cannot understand
* Why earth's poor dreams of heaven must fail?
* Are there no prison-doors to ope,
* No lambs to gather in the fold,
* No treasure-house of new and old,
* To fill desire and answer hope?
* We know not; but if life be there
* The outcome and the crown of this,
* What else can make their perfect bliss
* Than in the Master's work to share?
* Resting, but not in slumbrous ease,
* Working, but not in wild unrest,
* Still ever blessing, ever blest,
* They see us, as the Father sees.
* Spectator.E. H. P.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 134/Issue 1732/Miscellany

​The Cycloscope — It is well known that if a mirror be attached to a vibrating tuning-fork, and a point of light which moves uniformly in a plane at right angles to that in which the fork is vibrating be reflected from this mirror, the image will be an ordinary single wave. Again, if a series of luminous points move uniformly with such velocity that a point passes over two intervals during an odd number of vibrations of the fork, the two waves overlap and produce a double figure of the form of a series of figures-of-eight. Extending these principles, Professor McLeod and Lieutenant G. S. Clarke have recently constructed an ingenious apparatus which has been described before the Royal Society under the name of the cycloscope. Equidistant perforations are made in a circle on a disc, which is attached to a rotating axis, and the light passing through these apertures falls upon a vibrating tuning-fork of known period, whence it is reflected on to a screen; and from the shape of this reflected image the rate of rotation can be deduced. Hence the cycloscope promises to become of much value in determining the speed of machinery. On the contrary, if the speed at which the cylinder rotates be known, the pitch of the tuning-fork may be ascertained. Proc. Roy. Soc, April 19, No. 180, p. 157.
Capturing Ostriches — The greatest feat of an Arab hunter is to capture an ostrich. Being very shy and cautious, and living on the sandy plains, where there is little chance to take it by surprise, it can be captured only by a well-planned and long-continued pursuit on the swiftest horse. The ostrich has two curious habits in running when alarmed. It always starts with outspread wings against the wind, so that it can scent the approach of an enemy. Its sense of smell is so keen that it can detect a person a great distance long before he can be seen. The other curious habit is that of running in a circle. Usually five or six ostriches are found in company. When discovered, part of the hunters, mounted on fleet horses, will pursue the birds; while the other hunters will gallop away at right angles to the course the ostriches have taken. When these hunters think they have gone far enough to cross the path the birds will be likely to take, they watch upon some rise of ground for their approach. If the hunters hit the right place and see the ostriches, they at once start in pursuit with fresh horses, and sometimes they overtake one or two of the birds; but often one or two of the fleet horses fall, completely tired out with so sharp a chase. Newspaper Paragraph.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 134/Issue 1733/Regained

* REGAINED.
* I.
* Like the notes that stir and die
* When a harp-string snaps in twain;
* Like a fading sunset-sky
* After driving wind and rain;
* Like a sound within a shell,
* Like an odor on the air,
* Like an echo in a dell,
* Like a star, remote and fair,
* O, my child, thou art to me!
* And thy soul is linked to mine,
* As the pale moon draws the sea
* Or the sun lifts up the vine.
* II.
* In the passion of my tears,
* In the blindness of my grief,
* Through the melancholy years
* I eschewed the sweet relief;
* And I stretched my yearning hands
* Through the dark, to clasp thee near, —
* But to bind me in the bands
* Of an ever-haunting fear.
* I smiled on those beside me,
* And deemed I did thee wrong,
* And dreamt thou mightst deride me
* For sharing joy or song.
* III.
* Now, thy face comes back to me,
* All free from tear or stain:
* A brighter image of thyself,
* Triumphant over pain.
* I sought it not, for heedless,
* I nursed my own despair;
* And so I hold it likeness
* Of reality, most fair:
* No picture could unfold it
* To any stranger's eye;
* 'Tis like a starlet shining
* Within a winter sky.
* Good Words.E. Conder Gray.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 134/Issue 1732/A Protest

* A PROTEST.
* This is the sabbath season of the year,
* When summer silence falleth on the earth, —
* When truce hath come to husbandry and mirth,
* To mower's scythe and wanton wood-notes clear.
* The world is still, as if with holy fear,
* And from its heart, through lily-bell and rose,
* A stream of incense rises up, and flows
* God wards with soft repinings for his ear.
* And I would with the sabbath world take rest,
* Could breathe my life out with the summer's sigh;
* Could lay it at God's feet if, dispossest,
* My soul might feed new life as glad as high;
* But of no dweller on this earth unblest, —
* This fair, lost world, where mortals love and die!
* Spectator.Emily Pfeiffer
# Lyders v. Petersen

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
294 U.S. 716
Lyders v. Petersen
Messrs. James F. Brennan and Harold M. Sawyer, both of San Francisco, Cal., for petitioner.

## 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
# Lycidas

Lycidas is a poem by John Milton, written in 1637 as a pastoral elegy. It first appeared in a 1638 collection of elegies, entitled Justa Edouardo King Naufrago, dedicated to the memory of Edward King, friend of Milton's at Cambridge who drowned when his ship sank in the Irish Sea off the coast of Wales in August 1637. The poem is 193 lines in length, and is irregularly rhymed. Warning: template has been deprecated.
* "Lycidas", in Poems of Mr. John Milton, Both English and Latin, Compos'd at several times (1645)
* "Lycidas", in Comus and other poems (1906)
# Lyders v. Petersen/Opinion of the Court

* Court Documents
* Case Syllabus
* Opinion of the Court
United States Supreme Court
294 U.S. 716
Lyders v. Petersen
For opinion below, see 33 P.(2d) 1030.
Petition for writ of certiorari to the District Court of Appeals, 1st Appellate District, Division 1, State of California, denied.

## 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
# Luzon Lingerie

* related portals: Documentary film, Philippines, Silent films.
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, Commons category, Wikidata item.
Cast and Crew :
| Crew ||
| Producer | Burton Holmes (d. 1958) |
| Screenwriter | Burton Holmes |
| Editor | Burton Holmes |
| Based on available information, the latest crew member that is relevant to international copyright laws died in 1958, meaning that this film may be in the public domain in countries and jurisdictions with 65 years p.m.a. or less, as well as in the United States. ||
This reel is not intended to interest the men———
First meet this artistic young Filipino—a nice boy—though of a designing disposition———
He draws—others cut—the stencils———
His designs are duplicated for all the perfect thirty-sixes in the world———
Ten thousands of deft dusky feminine fingers fix the pleasing pattern on miles of fine white fabric———
Long training is required—Long trains are de rigeur———
Hosiery is optional—But heelless slippers called "chinelas" must be worn———
The absence of chairs has floored everybody in this airy work-room———
Scallops by the score are scissored silently———
Never too young to learn———
And when they slip away at the close of day—no one resents this farewell formality———
Even in Bilibid Prison the maidens and matrons of Manila execute exquisite needle work———
Most of these gentle dames are "in" for crimes of jealousy———
But now away—to seek more Luzon lingerie in its romantic native lair———
We follow one famous line of lingerie to its distance source amid the murmuring palm groves of this tropic island———
The home of an American girl who has trained and now directs five thousand Tagalog needle workers—They finish for her fifteen hundred gauzy garments every day———
Since the war began they have captured the world markets for their Filipino product———
They create also naperies and draperies———
And they have wrought veritable Miracles of Art———
They dash off dainty doilies by the dozen———
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
Copyright law abroad tends to consider the following people authors of a film:
* The principal director
* The screenwriter, and/or other writers of dialogue
* The composer/lyricist (if the film is accompanied by sound)
* The cinematographer
* By extension, the authors of any works that may serve as the basis for a film's plot
The longest-living of these authors died in 1958, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 65 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
# Lydia H. Sigourney, Inscription on Tablet

Written for the headstone of author Lydia Sigourney
On her Memorial Tablet in Christ Church at Hartford, Conn.
She sang alone, ere womanhood had known  The gift of song which fills the air to-day: Tender and sweet, a music all her own  May fitly linger where she knelt to pray.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 162/Issue 2098/The Ameer's Message

Originally published in National Review.
I. Abdurrahman, the Duráni Khán, to the Ghilzaie chief wrote he: "God has made me Ameer of the Affgháns, but thou on thy hills art free. I rule by the sword and signet; I care not to flatter or bribe; I take nor fee nor service of the noble Ghilzaie tribe; Nor pledge nor promise I ask of thee; I pardon, if all men know That thy heart has been hard against me, and thy friend has been my foe. For the sons of Sher Ali are exiles, their best men broken or fled; And those who escaped are homeless, and all who remained are dead. Such is the work of the Merciful, whose will is to smite or to save; It is he gives wealth and vengeance, or tears o'er a bloodstained grave. Now, while the swords are a moment still, 'ere ever fresh blood shall run, I look for a wise man's counsel, and I would that Affgháns were one. From Merv, last home of the free-lance, the clansmen are scattering far, And the Turkmán horses are harnessed to the guns of the Russian czar. So choose thou of all my liegemen, or choose thou of all my host, One true man, loyal-hearted, whomever thou trustest most, Whom thy tribe has known and honored, to bring thee in safety and peace; Thou shalt ride unscathed to Kabul, and the feud of our lives shall cease."
 II. The Ghilzaie chief wrote answer: "Our paths are narrow and steep, The sun burns fierce in the valleys, and the snow-fed streams run deep; The fords of the Kabul river are watched by the Afridee; We harried his folk last springtide, and he keeps good memory. High stands thy Kabul citadel, where many have room and rest; The Ameers give welcome entry, but they speed not a parting guest; So a stranger needs safe escort, and the oath of a valiant friend. Whom shall I choose of those I know? whom ask the Ameer to send? Wilt thou send the Vazir, Noor Ahmed, the man whom the Ghilzaies trust? He has long lain lost in a dungeon, his true, bold heart is dust. Wilt thou send the Jamsheedee Aga, who was called from the western plain? He left the black tents of his horsemen, and he led them never again. Shall I ask for the Moollah, in Ghuzni, to whom all Affgháns rise? He was bid last year to thy banqueting — his soul is in Paradise. Where is the chief Faizullah, to pledge me the word of his clan? He is far from his pine-clad highlands, and the vineyards of Kohistán; He is gone with the rest — all vanished; he passed through thy citadel gate. Will they come now, these I have chosen? I watch for their faces, and wait; For the night-shade falls over Kabul, and dark is the downward track, And the guardian hills ring an echo of voices that warn me back; Let the Ghilzaie bide on his mountain, and depart, as thy message has said, When but one sure friend the Ameer shall send, — when the tombs give up their dead."
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 162/Issue 2095/Martin Lightfoot's Song

Come hearken, hearken, gentles all,  Come hearken unto me, And I'll sing you a song of a Wood-Lyon  Came swimming out over the sea.
He rangèd west, he rangèd east,  And far and wide ranged he; He took his bite out of every beast  Lives under the greenwood tree.
Then by there came a silly old wolf,  "And I'll serve you," quoth he; Quoth the Lyon, "My paw is heavy enough,  So what wilt thou do for me?"
Then by there came a cunning old fox,  "And I'll serve you," quoth he; Quoth the Lyon, "My wits are sharp enough,  So what wilt thou do for me?"
Then by there came a white, white dove,  Flew off Our Lady's knee; Sang "It's I will be your true, true love,  If you'll be true to me."
"And what will you do, you bonny white dove?  And what will you do for me?" "Oh, it's I'll bring you to Our Lady's love,  In the ways of chivalrie."
He followed the dove that Wood-Lyon  By mere and wood and wold, Till he is come to a perfect knight,  Like the Paladin of old.
He rangèd east, he rangèd west,  And far and wide ranged he — And ever the dove won him honor and fame  In the ways of chivalrie.
Then by there came a foul old sow,  Came rookling under the tree; And "It's I will be true love to you,  If you'll be true to me."
"And what wilt thou do, thou foul old sow?  And what wilt thou do for me?" "Oh, there hangs in my snout a jewel of gold,  And that will I give to thee."
He took to the sow that Wood-Lyon;  To the rookling sow took he; And the dove flew up to Our Lady's bosom;  And never again throve he.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 162/Issue 2098/"Ein' feste Burg ist unser Gott"

Originally published in Academy.
Our God's a fastness sure indeed,  A trusty shield and weapon; He helps us free in every need  That unto us may happen.  The old wicked foe  Now in earnest doth go,  Deep wiles and great might  In his fell store unite, —  The earth holds not his fellow.
By strength of ours is nothing done,  Full soon are we dejected! But on our side's a champion  By God himself elected.  And who may that be?  Christ Jesus is he,  The Lord God of Hosts!  All gods else are vain boasts,  Our camp is in his keeping.
Though demons rage both far and near,  And gape our souls to swallow; Not all too great shall be our fear;  Success our steps shall follow.  The prince of this world,  Though threats he hath hurled,  To us can do nought,  For if to judgment brought  One word declares his sentence.
To let the word stand they are fain,  And small thereby their merit; He dwells among us on the plain  With gifts and with his spirit.  What though they take life,  Goods, name, child, and wife,  We need not rebel —  No profit those to hell,  While ours must be the kingdom.