OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# New poems and variant readings/Had I the power that had the will

HAD I THE POWER THAT HAVE THE WILL
Had I the power that have the will, The enfeebled will—a modern curse— This book of mine should blossom still A perfect garden-ground of verse.
White placid marble gods should keep Good watch in every shadowy lawn; And from clean, easy-breathing sleep The birds should waken me at dawn.
—A fairy garden;—none the less Throughout these gracious paths of mine All day there should be free access For stricken hearts and lives that pine;
And by the folded lawns all day— No idle gods for such a land— All active Love should take its way With active Labour hand in hand.
# New poems and variant readings/I am like one that for long days had sate

I AM LIKE ONE THAT FOR LONG DAYS HAD SATE
I am like one that for long days had sate, With seaward eyes set keen against the gale, On some lone foreland, watching sail by sail, The portbound ships for one ship that was late; And sail by sail, his heart burned up with joy, And cruelly was quenched, until at last One ship, the looked-for pennant at its mast, Bore gaily, and dropt safely past the buoy; And lo! the loved one was not there—was dead. Then would he watch no more; no more the sea With myriad vessels, sail by sail, perplex His eyes and mock his longing. Weary head. Take now thy rest; eyes, close; for no more me Shall hopes untried elate, or ruined vex.
For thus on love I waited; thus for love Strained all my senses eagerly and long; Thus for her coming ever trimmed my song; Till in the far skies coloured as a dove, A bird gold-coloured flickered far and fled Over the pathless waterwaste for me; And with spread hands I watched the bright bird flee ​And waited, till before me she dropped dead. O golden bird in these dove-coloured skies How long I sought, how long with wearied eyes I sought, O bird, the promise of thy flight! And now the morn has dawned, the morn has died, The day has come and gone; and once more night About my lone life settles, wild and wide.
# Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers: Series I/Volume I/Confessions/Book I/Chapter 12

Chapter XII.—Being Compelled, He Gave His Attention to Learning; But Fully Acknowledges that This Was the Work of God.
19. But in this my childhood (which was far less dreaded for me than youth) I had no love of learning, and hated to be forced to it, yet was I forced to it notwithstanding; and this was well done towards me, but I did not well, for I would not have learned had I not been compelled. For no man doth well against his will, even if that which he doth be well. Neither did they who forced me do well, but the good that was done to me came from Thee, my God. For they considered not in what way I should employ what they forced me to learn, unless to satisfy the inordinate desires of a rich beggary and a shameful glory. But Thou, by whom the very hairs of our heads are numbered, didst use for my good the error of all who pressed me to learn; and my own error in willing not to learn, didst Thou make use of for my punishment—of which I, being so small a boy and so great a sinner, was not unworthy. Thus by the instrumentality of those who did not well didst Thou well for me; and by my own sin didst Thou justly punish me. For it is even as Thou hast appointed, that every inordinate affection should bring its own punishment.

## Footnotes

* ↑ Matt. x. 30.
* ↑ See note, v. sec. 2, below.
# Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers: Series I/Volume I/Confessions/Book I/Chapter 3

Chapter III.—Everywhere God Wholly Filleth All Things, But Neither Heaven Nor Earth Containeth Him.
3. Since, then, Thou fillest heaven and earth, do they contain Thee? Or, as they contain Thee not, dost Thou fill them, and yet there remains something over? And where dost Thou pour forth that which remaineth of Thee when the heaven and earth are filled? Or, indeed, is there no need that Thou who containest all things shouldest be contained of any, since those things which Thou fillest Thou fillest by containing them? For the vessels which Thou fillest do not sustain Thee, since should they even be broken Thou wilt not be poured forth. And when Thou art poured forth on us, Thou art not cast down, but we are uplifted; nor art Thou dissipated, but we are drawn together. But, as Thou fillest all things, dost Thou fill them with Thy whole self, or, as even all things cannot altogether contain Thee, do they contain a part, and do all at once contain the same part? Or has each its own proper part—the greater more, the smaller less? Is, then, one part of Thee greater, another less? Or is it that Thou art wholly everywhere whilst nothing altogether contains Thee?

## Footnotes

* ↑ Acts ii. 18.
* ↑ In this section, and constantly throughout the Confessions, he adverts to the materialistic views concerning God held by the Manichæans. See also sec. 10; iii. sec. 12; iv. sec. 31, etc. etc.
# Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers: Series I/Volume I/Confessions/Book I/Chapter 14

Chapter XIV.—Why He Despised Greek Literature, and Easily Learned Latin.
23. But why, then, did I dislike Greek learning which was full of like tales? For Homer also was skilled in inventing similar stories, and is most sweetly vain, yet was he disagreeable to me as a boy. I believe Virgil, indeed, would be the same to Grecian children, if compelled to learn him, as I was Homer. The difficulty, in truth, the difficulty of learning a foreign language mingled as it were with gall all the sweetness of those fabulous Grecian stories. For not a single word of it did I understand, and to make me do so, they vehemently urged me with cruel threatenings and punishments. There was a time also when (as an infant) I knew no Latin; but this I acquired without any fear or tormenting, by merely taking notice, amid the blandishments of my nurses, the jests of those who smiled on me, and the sportiveness of those who toyed with me. I learnt all this, indeed, without being urged by any pressure of punishment, for my own heart urged me to bring forth its own conceptions, which I could not do unless by learning words, not of those who taught me, but of those who talked to me; into whose ears, also, I brought forth whatever I discerned. From this it is sufficiently clear that a free curiosity hath more influence in our learning these things than a necessity full of fear. But this last restrains the overflowings of that freedom, through Thy laws, O God,—Thy laws, from the ferule of the schoolmaster to the trials of the martyr, being effective to mingle for us a salutary bitter, calling us back to Thyself from the pernicious delights which allure us from Thee.

## Footnotes

* ↑ Exaggerated statements have been made as to Augustin’s deficiency in the knowledge of Greek. In this place it is clear that he simply alludes to a repugnance to learn a foreign language that has often been seen in boys since his day. It would seem equally clear from Bk. vii. sec. 13 (see also De Trin. iii. sec. 1), that when he could get a translation of a Greek book, he preferred it to one in the original language. Perhaps in this, again, he is not altogether singular. It is difficult to decide the exact extent of his knowledge, but those familiar with his writings can scarcely fail to be satisfied that he had a sufficient acquaintance with the language to correct his Italic version by the Greek Testament and the LXX., and that he was quite alive to the importance of such knowledge in an interpreter of Scripture. See also Con. Faust, xi. 2–4; and De Doctr. Christ. ii. 11–15.
# Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers: Series I/Volume I/Confessions/Book I/Chapter 17

Chapter XVII.—He Continues on the Unhappy Method of Training Youth in Literary Subjects.
27. Bear with me, my God, while I speak a little of those talents Thou hast bestowed upon me, and on what follies I wasted them. For a lesson sufficiently disquieting to my soul was given me, in hope of praise, and fear of shame or stripes, to speak the words of Juno, as she raged and sorrowed that she could not
“Latium bar
From all approaches of the Dardan king,”
which I had heard Juno never uttered. Yet were we compelled to stray in the footsteps of these poetic fictions, and to turn that into prose which the poet had said in verse. And his speaking was most applauded in whom, according to the reputation of the persons delineated, the passions of anger and sorrow were most strikingly reproduced, and clothed in the most suitable language. But what is it to me, O my true Life, my God, that my declaiming was applauded above that of many who were my contemporaries and fellow-students? Behold, is not all this smoke and wind? Was there nothing else, too, on which I could exercise my wit and tongue? Thy praise, Lord, Thy praises might have supported the tendrils of my heart by Thy Scriptures; so had it not been dragged away by these empty trifles, a shameful prey of the fowls of the air. For there is more than one way in which men sacrifice to the fallen angels.

## Footnotes

* ↑ Æneìd, i. 36–75 (Kennedy).
* ↑ See note on v. 4, below.
# Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers: Series I/Volume I/Confessions/Book I/Chapter 15

Chapter XV.—He Entreats God, that Whatever Useful Things He Learned as a Boy May Be Dedicated to Him.
24. Hear my prayer, O Lord; let not my soul faint under Thy discipline, nor let me faint in confessing unto Thee Thy mercies, whereby Thou hast saved me from all my most mischievous ways, that Thou mightest become sweet to me beyond all the seductions which I used to follow; and that I may love Thee entirely, and grasp Thy hand with my whole heart, and that Thou mayest deliver me from every temptation, even unto the end. For lo, O Lord, my King and my God, for Thy service be whatever useful thing I learnt as a boy—for Thy service what I speak, and write, and count. For when I learned vain things, Thou didst grant me Thy discipline; and my sin in taking delight in those vanities, Thou hast forgiven me. I learned, indeed, in them many useful words; but these may be learned in things not vain, and that is the safe way for youths to walk in.
# Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers: Series I/Volume I/Confessions/Book I/Chapter 2

Chapter II.—That the God Whom We Invoke is in Us, and We in Him.
2. And how shall I call upon my God—my God and my Lord? For when I call on Him I ask Him to come into me. And what place is there in me into which my God can come—into which God can come, even He who made heaven and earth? Is there anything in me, O Lord my God, that can contain Thee? Do indeed the very heaven and the earth, which Thou hast made, and in which Thou hast made me, contain Thee? Or, as nothing could exist without Thee, doth whatever exists contain Thee? Why, then, do I ask Thee to come into me, since I indeed exist, and could not exist if Thou wert not in me? Because I am not yet in hell, though Thou art even there; for “if I go down into hell Thou art there.” I could not therefore exist, could not exist at all, O my God, unless Thou wert in me. Or should I not rather say, that I could not exist unless I were in Thee from whom are all things, by whom are all things, in whom are all things? Even so, Lord; even so. Where do I call Thee to, since Thou art in me, or whence canst Thou come into me? For where outside heaven and earth can I go that from thence my God may come into me who has said, I fill heaven and earth”?

## Footnotes

* ↑ Ps. cxxxix. 8.
* ↑ Rom. xi. 36.
* ↑ Jer. xxiii. 24.
# Mind (journal)/Volume 2 (New Series)

Index page: Mind_(New_Series)_Volume_2.djvu
# Mind (journal)/Volume 4 (New Series)

Index page: Mind_(New_Series)_Volume_4.djvu
* F. C. S. Schiller. "The Metaphysics of the Time-Process", pp. 36-46.
* J. L. McIntyre. "Time and the Succession of Events", pp. 334-349.
# Mind (journal)/Volume 33

* Number 129 (transcription project)
* Number 130 (transcription project)
* Number 131
# Mind (journal)/Volume 3 (New Series)

Index page: Mind_(New_Series)_Volume_3.djvu
# Mind (journal)/Volume 33/Number 129

MSS. and other Communications for the Editor should be addressed to G. E. MOORE, Litt.D., 86 Chesterton Road, Cambridge
No contribution reaching the Editor later than 10th March next can appear in the April Number of MIND.
MIND A QUARTERLY REVIEW OF PSYCHOLOGY AND PHILOSOPHY. EDITED BY G. E. MOORE, With the Cooperation of Professor PRINGLE-PATTISON, Professor C. D. BROAD, and F. C. BARTLETT, M.A.
Published for the MIND ASSOCIATION by MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED, ST. MARTIN’S STREET, LONDON, W.C. 2.
NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.
Price Four Shillings and Sixpence.—— All Rights Reserved.
Entered at the New York Post Office as second class matter.
# Mind (journal)/Volume 33/Number 130

MSS. and other Communications for the Editor should be addressed to G. E. MOORE, Litt.D., 86 Chesterton Road, Cambridge
No contribution reaching the Editor later than 10th March next can appear in the July Number of MIND.
MIND A QUARTERLY REVIEW OF PSYCHOLOGY AND PHILOSOPHY. EDITED BY G. E. MOORE, With the Cooperation of Professor PRINGLE-PATTISON, Professor C. D. BROAD, and F. C. BARTLETT, M.A.
ALSO COMPLETE INDEX TO VOLS. XIII–XXXII.
Published for the MIND ASSOCIATION by MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED, ST. MARTIN’S STREET, LONDON, W.C. 2.
NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.
# Miscellanies (Thoreau)/Delay

DELAY
No generous action can delay Or thwart our higher, steadier aims; But if sincere and true are they, It will arouse our sight, and nerve our frames.
# Miscellanies (Thoreau)/Inspiration

INSPIRATION
If with light head erect I sing, Though all the Muses lend their force, From my poor love of anything, The verse is weak and shallow as its source.
But if with bended neck I grope, Listening behind me for my wit, With faith superior to hope, More anxious to keep back than forward it;
Making my soul accomplice there Unto the flame my heart hath lit, Then will the verse forever wear,— Time cannot bend the line which God has writ.
I hearing get, who had but ears, And sight, who had but eyes before; I moments live, who lived but years, And truth discern, who knew but learning's lore. ​Now chiefly is my natal hour, And only now my prime of life; Of manhood's strength it is the flower, 'T is peace's end, and war's beginning strife.
It comes in summer's broadest noon, By a gray wall, or some chance place, Unseasoning time, insulting June, And vexing day with its presuming face.
I will not doubt the love untold, Which not my worth nor want hath bought, Which wooed me young, and wooes me old, And to this evening hath me brought.
# Miscellanies (Thoreau)/Inspiration 2

INSPIRATION
If thou wilt but stand by my ear, When through the field thy anthem 's rung, When that is done I will not fear But the same power will abet my tongue.
# Moby-Dick (1851) US edition/Chapter 95

CHAPTER XCV.
the cassock.
Had you stepped on board the Pequod at a certain juncture of this post-mortemizing of the whale; and had you strolled forward nigh the windlass, pretty sure am I that you would have scanned with no small curiosity a very strange, enigmatical object, which you would have seen there, lying along lengthwise in the lee scuppers. Not the wondrous cistern in the whale's huge head; not the prodigy of his unhinged lower jaw ; not the miracle of his symmetrical tail; none of these would so surprise you, as half a glimpse of that unaccountable cone,—longer than a Kentuckian is tall, nigh a foot in diameter at the base, and jet: black as Yojo, the ebony idol of Queequeg. And an idol, indeed, it is; or, rather, in old times, its likeness was. Such an idol as that found in the secret groves of Queen Maachah in Judea; and for worshipping which, king Asa, her son, did depose her, and destroyed the idol, and burnt it for an abomination at the brook Kedron, as darkly set forth in the 15th chapter of the first book of Kings.
Look at the sailor, called the mincer, who now comes along, and assisted by two allies, heavily backs the grandissimus, as the mariners call it, and with bowed shoulders, staggers off with it as if he were a grenadier carrying a dead comrade from the field. Extending it upon the forecastle deck, he now proceeds cylindrically to remove its dark pelt, as an African hunter the pelt of a boa. This done he turns the pelt inside out, like a pantaloon leg; gives it a good stretching, so as almost to ​double its diameter; and at last hangs it, well spread, in the rigging, to dry. Ere long, it is taken down; when removing some three feet of it, towards the pointed extremity, and then cutting two slits for arm-holes at the other end, he lengthwise slips himself bodily into it. The mincer now stands before you invested in the full canonicals of his calling. Immemorial to all his order, this investiture alone will adequately protect, him, while employed in the peculiar functions of his office.
That office consists in mincing the horse-pieces of blubber for the pots; an operation which is conducted at a curious wooden horse, planted endwise against the bulwarks, and with a capacious tub beneath it, into which the minced pieces drop, fast as the sheets from a rapt orator’s desk. Arrayed in decent black ; occupying a conspicuous pulpit; intent on bible leaves; what a candidate for an archbishoprick, what a lad for a Pope were this mincer!
# Narrative of William W. Brown, a Fugitive Slave/Letter from Edmund Quincy, Esq.

LETTER
FROM
EDMUND QUINCY, ESQ
Dedham, July 1, 1847.
To William W Brown.
My Dear Friend:—I heartily thank you for the privilege of reading the manuscript of your Narrative. I have read it with deep interest and strong emotion. I am much mistaken if it be not greatly successful and eminently useful. It presents a different phase of the infernal slave-system from that portrayed in the admirable story of Mr. Douglass, and gives us a glimpse of its hideous cruelties in other portions of its domain.
Your opportunities of observing the workings of this accursed system have been singularly great. Your experiences in the Field, in the House, and especially on the River in the service of the slave-trader, Walker, have been such as few individuals have had;—no one, certainly, who has been competent to describe them. What I have admired, and marvelled at, in your Narrative, is the simplicity and calmness with which you describe scenes and actions which might well "move the very ​stones to rise and mutiny" against the National Institution which makes them possible.
You will perceive that I have made very sparing use of your flattering permission to alter what you had written. To correct a few errors, which appeared to be merely clerical ones, committed in the hurry of composition under unfavorable circumstances, and to suggest a few curtailments, is all that I have ventured to do. I should be a bold man, as well as a vain one, if I should attempt to improve your descriptions of what you have seen and suffered. Some of the scenes are not unworthy of De Foe himself.
I trust and believe that your Narrative will have a wide circulation. I am sure it deserves it. At least, a man must be differently constituted from me, who can rise from the perusal of your Narrative without feeling that he understands slavery better, and hates it worse, than he ever did before.
Your friend,
EDMUND QUINCY.
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# Narrative of William W. Brown, a Fugitive Slave/To Wells Brown, of Ohio

TO WELLS BROWN, OF OHIO.
Thirteen years ago, I came to your door, a weary fugitive from chains and stripes. I was a stranger, and you took me in. I was hungry, and you fed me. Naked was I, and you clothed me. Even a name by which to be known among men, slavery had denied me. You bestowed upon me your own. Base, indeed, should I be, if I ever forget what I owe to you, or do anything to disgrace that honored name!
As a slight testimony of my gratitude to my earliest benefactor, I take the liberty to inscribe to you this little narrative of the sufferings from which I was fleeing when you had compassion upon me. In the multitude that you have succored, it is very possible that you may not remember me; but until I forget God and myself, I can never forget you.
Your grateful friend,
William Wells Brown.
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# Narrative of William W. Brown, a Fugitive Slave/Preface

PREFACE
When I first published this Narrative, the public had no evidence whatever that I had been a slave, except my own story. As soon as the work came from the press, I sent several copies to slaveholders residing at the South, with whom I was acquainted; and among others, one to Mr. Enoch Price, the man who claims my body and soul as his property, and from whom I had run away. A few weeks after the Narrative was sent, Edmund Quincy, Esq., received the following letter from Mr. Price. It tells its own story, and forever settles the question of my having been a slave. Here is the letter:
St. Louis, Jan. 10th, 1848.
Sir:—I received a pamphlet, or a Narrative, so called on the title-page, of the Life of William W Brown, a fugitive slave, purporting to have been written by himself; and in his book I see a letter from you to said William W Brown. This said Brown is named Sanford; he is a slave belonging to me, and ran away from me the first day of January, 1834. Now I see many things in his book that are not true, and a part of ​it as near true as a man could recollect after so long I purchased him of Mr. S. Willi, the last of September, 1833. I paid six hundred and fifty dollars for him. If I had wanted to speculate on him, I could have sold him for three times as much as I paid for him. I was offered two thousand dollars for him, in New Orleans, at one time, and fifteen hundred dollars for him, at another time, in Louisville, Kentucky. But I would not sell him. I was told that he was going to run away, the day before he ran away, but I did not believe the man, for I had so much confidence in Sanford. I want you to see him, and see if what I say is not the truth. I do not want him as a slave, but I think that his friends, who sustain him and give him the right hand of fellowship, or he himself, could afford to pay my agent in Boston three hundred and twenty-five dollars, and I will give him free papers, so that he may go wherever he wishes to. Then he can visit St. Louis, or any other place he may wish.
This amount is just half that I paid for him. Now, if this offer suits Mr. Brown, and the Anti-Slavery Society of Boston, or Massachusetts, let me know, and I will give you the name of my agent in Boston, and forward the papers, to be given to William W Brown as soon as the money is paid.
Yours respectfully,
Mr. Price says that he sees many things in my book which are not true, and a part of it as near true as a man could recollect after so long a time. As I was with Mr. Price only three months, and have devoted only six pages to him and his family, he can know but little about my narrative, except that ​part which speaks of him. But I am willing to avail myself of his testimony, for he says that a part of it is true.
But I cannot accept of Mr. Price's offer to become a purchaser of my body and soul. God made me as free as he did Enoch Price, and Mr. Price shall never receive a dollar from me, or my friends with my consent.
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# Narrative of William W. Brown, a Fugitive Slave/Note to the Third Edition

NOTE TO THE THIRD EDITION.
The first and second editions of this work, consisting of five thousand copies, were sold in less than a year from the time of its publication. Encouraged by the rapid sale of the work, I now publish a third edition with a new preface which includes a letter from my old master. He certifies that I am a slave.
w. w. b.
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