OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Popular Science Monthly/Volume 47/June 1895/Obituary Notes

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General John Newton, a distinguished officer, Chief of Engineers of the United States Army, and an eminent engineer, best known, perhaps, from his services in clearing the channel of Hell Gate from its dangerous rocks, died at his home in this city, May 1st, after an illness of a few weeks, from chronic rheumatism. A portrait of him and a sketch of his life up to his appointment as Commissioner of Public Works of the City of New York were given in The Popular Science Monthly for October, 1886. A detailed account, with maps and illustrations, of the improvement of the East River and Hell Gate, furnished by him, was published in the Monthly for February, 1886. His appointment as Superintendent of Public Works of this city was an ideal one, of the fittest man for that highly responsible position to be found. In it he executed some of the most important works the city has undertaken, and his administration is described as having been notably able and having resulted in great public good. Since April, 1888, he had been President of the Panama Railway Company, the Panama Steamship Company, and the Columbian Steamship Line.
Dr. George A. Rex, of Philadelphia, whose sudden death was recently announced, was an earnest student of the lower orders of fungi, an authority of the highest repute on myxomycetes, an ardent microscopist, and a discoverer of many new species in his special province.
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume I/Love is Passing

LOVE IS PASSING
LOVE is passing through the street. Love, imperishably sweet, On his silver-sandaled feet Draweth near.
Suppliant he came of yore,— Comes he now as conqueror? Will he, pausing at my door, Enter here?
Once his lips were ruby-red, And his wings like gold, outspread, And the roses crowned his head, As in story;
And though these he now disguise, Ever a lost paradise In the azure of his eyes Keeps its glory.
​Love is passing through the street— Love, imperishably sweet, And were death our way to meet, I would dare it.
Come he suppliant, as before, Come he as a conqueror,— So he turn not from my door, I can bear it!
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume I/Man, That Will Not Be Beguiled

MAN, THAT WILL NOT BE BEGUILED
MAN, that will not be beguiled Like a fond and happy child From his toil or futile strife, Feels within his bosom burning All the deep, impassioned yearning Woven in the woof of life.
And though far, with weary feet, He may wander, Man shall meet No content until he come— Soon or late, his fate compelling— To Love's domed and star-lit dwelling, For he has no other home.
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume I/Memory

MEMORY
IF it be true, as some aver, With wisdom naught endears, That portioned to each human lot Are fewer smiles than tears,—
Then, merciful Mnemosyne, How great to thee our debt, That we remember all our joys, Our sufferings forget!
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume I/Love Never is Too Late

LOVE NEVER IS TOO LATE
LOVE never is too late; it sums, Within itself, all that is lasting gain, And, or at morn or midnight, comes With blessings in its train.
We tarry, slow to give, alas! But though delayed, love never is too late— Love that has power beyond the grave to pass And enter Heaven's gate!
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume I/Love Sailed at Morn

LOVE SAILED AT MORN
LOVE sailed at morn in a fragile bark, With broidered pennants flying: His skies with sudden storm grew dark, Yet gallant Love, with courage gay, Rode jocund on his conquering way, The winds and the waves defying.
But when, all peril overpast, In tranquil harbor lying, He felt no more the billowing blast Oppose his sails, Love, joy-becalmed, Each foe subdued, each effort balmed, Without a wound lay dying.
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume I/Memoria

MEMORIA
IF only in my dreams I may behold you, Still hath the day a goal; If only in my dreams I may enfold you, Still hath the night a soul. Leaden the hours may press upon my spirit, Nor one dear pledge redeem,— I will not chide, so they at last inherit And crown me with the rapture of that dream.
Ten thousand blossoms earth's gay gardens cherish; One pale, pale rose is mine. Of frost or blight the rest may quickly perish,— Not so that rose divine. Deathless it blooms in quiet realms Elysian; And when toil wins me rest, Forgetful of all else, in blissful vision I breathe my rose, and clasp it to my breast!
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume I/Madonna

MADONNA
HE gazed, the little vagrant lad, On the Madonna's gentle face; And all his wistful visage sad Renewed its infant grace: He gazed, reluctant to depart, Then kissed her, shyly, as he stood— Ah, wondrous Art! his lonely heart But yearned to motherhood!
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume I/Mars

MARS
IN the blue, cloudless heaven A single star, Lone torch and lamp of even, Burning afar;
Not with the radiance tender Of other stars, But with insistent splendor,— Celestial Mars!
Above the summits hoary Of ancient hills, It yet pours out a glory On lakes and rills,
As when Selene passes Across the night And her fair image glasses, Leaving its light.
​Strange planet! Thou dost awe me, As by a spell; Thou dost uplift and draw me Where thou dost dwell!
Thy mysteries to capture Let others guess; Mine—mine to feel with rapture Thy beauteousness.
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume I/Man

MAN
I WAS born as free as the silvery light That laughs in a Southern fountain; Free as the sea-fed bird that nests On a Scandinavian mountain, Free as the wind that mocks at the sway And pinioning clasp of another, Yet in the slave they scourged to-day I saw and knew—my brother!
Vested in purple I sat apart, But the cord that smote him bruised me; I closed my ears, but the sob that broke From his savage breast accused me; No phrase of reasoning judgement just The plaint of my soul could smother, A creature vile, abased to the dust, I knew him still—my brother.
And the autumn day that had smiled so fair Seemed suddenly overclouded; A gloom, more dreadful than Nature owns, My human mind enshrouded; ​I thought of the power benign that made And bound men one to the other, And I felt in my brother's fear afraid, And ashamed in the shame of my brother.
# Popular Science Monthly/Volume 38/December 1890/Obituary Notes

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Miss Marianne North, a distinguished English botanist, traveler, and artist, died August 30th. Her career may be said to have begun in 1869, when she started to travel with a view of illustrating the flora of some countries not then perfectly known. She visited on different excursions Teneriffe, Brazil, the West Indies, California, India, Ceylon, Borneo, Java, Japan, Australia, and the Seychelles, and brought back at various times during twelve years collections of drawings in oils and water-colors of the scenery, vegetation, and flora which she had studied in their several habitats. In 1881 she presented a series of 627 pictures to the nation, for which she erected a gallery in Kew Gardens at her own expense.
Thomas Carnelley, Professor of Chemistry in the University of Aberdeen, died August 27th, at the age of thirty-eight years. He was born in Manchester, England; had a brilliant career in Owens College; received the Dalton Chemical scholarship in 1872 for his original investigation of the vanadates of thallium; and gained it for another year, on examination; was private assistant to Prof. Roscoe, and, having studied abroad, became professor in succession at Owens College, the North Staffordshire School of Science, Firth College, Sheffield, University College, Dundee, and the University of Aberdeen. He prosecuted valuable researches in the extension and application of Mendeleef's periodic law; made chemical and bacteriological examinations of the air of dwellings, schools, etc., in Dundee and its district, which aroused interest in ventilation; and besides many contributions to English and foreign chemical journals, published a large book on certain physical constants of chemical compounds.
Signor Orazio Silvestri, a distinguished chemist and vulcanologist, recently died at Catania, Sicily, at the age of fifty-five years. He was an industrious student of the eruptions of Mount Etna, and founded the laboratory on top of the mountain at the height of upward of 13,000 feet.
Prof. Carl Frederik Fearnley, of the University of Christiania, an eminent Norwegian astronomer, died August 23d, in his seventy-third year. He was the author of numerous astronomical and meteorological publications, and had been Professor of Astronomy at the university since 1857.
# Popular Science Monthly/Volume 5

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# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/The Tomb Said to the Rose

THE TOMB SAID TO THE ROSE
AFTER THE FRENCH OF VICTOR HUGO
THE tomb said to the rose: —"With the tears thy leaves enclose, What makest thou, love's flower?" The rose said to the tomb: —"Tell me of all those whom Death gives into thy power!"
The rose said:—"Tomb, 't is strange, But these tears of love I change Into perfumes amber sweet." The tomb said:—"Plaintive flower, Of these souls, I make each hour Angels, for heaven meet!"
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/They Live So Long

THEY LIVE SO LONG
THEY live so long, the Gods! They know What æons passed before a rose could blow; What ages numberless, without a name, Went out in darkness ere the saurian came, A crawling dulness from the slime of Earth; What further centuries with movement slow Were borne along on Time's unebbing flow Before the weakling man-child came to birth: All this, and more, they know.
Our dates—how brief! We cry:— "Bless us to-day! to-morrow we shall die!" Divided ever between hope and fear, Warring with evil which we deem grows strong, Our knowledge bounded by one little sphere, We cannot share, for hope of good not nigh, The peace of the unfathomable sky; But the Gods patient be; they live so long, And know that naught can die.
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/Though Thou Hast Climbed

THOUGH THOU HAST CLIMBED
THOUGH thou hast climbed, by patient effort slow, O'er barriers that thy course denied, And from proud summits gazest down below— Self-satisfied;
Though thou hast felt the clouds beneath thy feet, And to past triumphs fond returning, Wakest no more, sublimer heights to greet With upward yearning,—
Better for thee hadst thou been taught to bow, Through lengthening years of blest probation, Looking to something loftier than thou, In adoration:
Better for thee had thine unconquered will, So scornful of restraining bars— Been held earth's captive thrall, thy strivings still Unto the Stars!
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/They Told Me

THEY TOLD ME
THEY told me: "Pan is dead—Nature is dead: There is no God." I read The words of Socrates, and then I read Of Jesus; and I said:— "Divinity 's not dead!"
Good can nor poisoned be Nor slain upon a tree: The soul of good, escaping, still is free, And in its ministry Lives God eternally.
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/To-Day

TO-DAY
WHERE hast thou gone, my Day? I meant to follow, Extracting from thine every hour its sweet; But thou, beguiling hope with pledges hollow, Art flown on wingèd feet.
Hardly I greet thy morn, The glory dwindles; And as I plan thy moments with delight, The evening-primrose in my pathway kindles Her taper for the night.
Ah, too precipitate! Might I not linger To gather a stray blossom by the way, But pointing onward with thy warning finger, Thou must outstrip me, Day?
Gladly I welcomed thee, An eager lover Who deemed he knew each fleeting moment's cost, Is there no way, no method, to recover The treasure I have lost? ​Ah, no! From Time, alas! One may not borrow; Nor move him what is squandered to restore. The tide flows back, and there may dawn a morrow. Thee I shall find no more.
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/To Henry Mills Alden

TO HENRY MILLS ALDEN
OUR days by deeds are numbered,—and by dreams, If we dream well and nobly; for it seems That he who would respond By deed to what is loveliest and best, Must, holding to the near and manifest, Find in the things beyond, Faith, ay, and courage, duty to fulfil,— Hearing the higher voices calling still.
Thy youth those voices heard on many a height, In the fresh dawn and the all-fragrant night, For thou wast mountain-born; And looking to the hills,—from boyhood-days Thy comrades,—learned the wonder in their ways, Reglorified each morn; Gaining, with deeper draughts of upland breath, Large images of Life and lordly Death.
And as a man but follows his lodestar,— For our ideals make us what we are,— Through self-effacing years, ​Thou, toiling where the burdened city moans, Hast lost no accent of the higher zones. Smiles, and the truth of tears, And memories, and melodies unsung, Have visited thy heart, and kept it young.
Thou hast had strength, where many failed, to glean Good from a doubtful harvest; thou hast seen Light where the shade lay deep. The future with the present praise must blend To crown thy triumphs worthily, O friend! But we remembrance keep More grateful, even, for thyself than them, And lay upon thy brow love's anadem.
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/To-morrow

TO-MORROW
THE robin chants when the thrush is dumb, Snow smooths a bed for the clover, Life flames anew, and days to come Are sweet as the days that are over.
The tide that ebbs by the moon flows back, Faith builds on the ruins of sorrow, The halcyon flutters in winter's track, And night makes way for the morrow.
And ever a strain, of joys the sum, Sings on in the heart of the lover— In death sings on—that days to come Are sweet as the days that are over!
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/The Summer-Time is in the Rose

THE SUMMER-TIME IS IN THE ROSE
THE summer-time is in the rose; 'T is but to breathe once more The perfume that its leaves enclose The summer to restore. But how should summer bloom for him Who must its rose resign? A winter, changeless in his heart, Repeats:—"Not mine!—not mine!"
Ah, sorrowful to give in vain— To love when hope is not! To cover with a smile the pain That will not be forgot! To journey to a living spring Of water, welling sweet,— To long as with a desert thirst, Yet turn away the feet!
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/The White-Throated Sparrow

THE WHITE-THROATED SPARROW
"When the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows."
WOULD you feel the witching spell Of the whitethroat, listen! There are secrets he can tell Of the marsh, and of the dell Where the dewdrops glisten.
Poet of the brooding pine And the feathery larches, Dawn-lit summits seem to shine, Lucent in each throbbing line, Under azure arches.
All his soul a floating song,— Sweet, too sweet for sadness,— At his bidding, hither throng Memories that make us long With a plaintive gladness.
Ah, were all the woodland bare, Should those notes but quiver, Straight I'd see it budding fair!— And the lilies would be there, Floating on the river!
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/There's a Spot in the Mountains

THERE'S A SPOT IN THE MOUNTAINS
THERE'S a spot in the mountains, where the dew, dear, Is laden with the odours of the pine, Where the heavens seem unbounded, and their blue, dear, Is deepest where it mirrored seems to shine.
There, at morn and eve, with rapture old and new, dear, The thrushes sing their double song divine, And the melody their voices breathe, of you, dear, Speaks ever to this happy heart of mine.
There's a cabin in the mountains, where the fare, dear, Is frugal as the cheer of Arden blest; But contentment sweet and fellowship are there, dear, And Love, that makes the feast he honors—best!
​There's a lake upon the mountains, where our boat, dear, Moves gayly up the stream or down the tide, Where, amid the scented lily-buds afloat, dear, We dream the dream of Eden as we glide!
# Popular Tales from the Norse/Why the Bear is Stumpy-Tailed

WHY THE BEAR IS STUMPY-TAILED.
ONE day the Bear met the Fox, who came slinking along with a string of fish he had stolen.
"Whence did you get those from?" asked the Bear.
"Oh! my Lord Bruin, I've been out fishing and caught them," said the Fox.
So the Bear had a mind to learn to fish too, and bade the Fox tell him how he was to set about it.
"Oh! it's an easy craft for you," answered the Fox, "and soon learnt. You've only got to go upon the ice, and cut a hole and stick your tail down into it; and so you must go on holding it there as long as you can. You're not to mind if your tail smarts a little; that's when the fish bite. The longer you hold it there the more fish you'll get; and then all at once out with it, with a cross pull sideways, and with a strong pull too."
Yes; the Bear did as the Fox had said, and held his tail a long, long time down in the hole, till it was fast frozen in. Then he pulled it out with a cross pull, and it snapped short off. That's why Bruin goes about with a stumpy tail this very day.
# Posterior Analytics (Bouchier)/Book I/Chapter XXX
### Chapter XXX: On fortuitous occurrences

    No demonstration can prove fortuitous circumstances, for demonstration deals only with the necessary or sometimes with the probable.
No knowledge of a fortuitous occurrence can be attained by demonstration. The fortuitous does not resemble either the necessary or the probable, but is that which falls outside both of these classes, while demonstration deals with one or other of them, since every syllogism is drawn from necessary or probable premises. If then the premises be necessary the conclusion is so likewise, if the premises apply, in most cases only, the conclusion has a similar application. Hence, if the fortuitous be neither probable nor necessary, it cannot be demonstrated.
# Posterior Analytics (Bouchier)/Book II/Chapter I
### Chapter I: On the number and arrangements of Questions

    The objects of knowledge are four in number:—a thing’s existence, its cause, the question whether it is, and its nature.
The subjects of enquiry are equal in number to the objects of scientific knowledge. We enquire about four things, the fact of the phenomenon, its cause, whether it exists and what its nature is. Now when we ask whether a thing is this or that, taking two alternatives, e.g. asking whether the sun is eclipsed or not, we ask about the fact. A proof of this is that when we find that it is eclipsed we abandon this line of enquiry. Also if we know from the first that it is eclipsed we do not ask whether it is eclipsed or not. Next, after learning the fact of the phenomenon we seek for the cause of it. For example, when we know that the sun is eclipsed or that the earth does move, we go on to seek for the cause of the eclipse or of the movement.
These questions concerning the fact and cause stand towards each other in the relation here stated, but in some questions the enquiry proceeds differently: namely whether a thing exists at all or not; e.g. as to whether or not a centaur or a god is. By ‘whether it is or not’ I mean is absolutely, not whether a thing is, e.g., white or not white. When we know that the thing does exist we enquire about its nature, asking, for instance, ‘What then is a god, or what is a man?’
# Posterior Analytics (Bouchier)/Book I/Chapter XXXIV
### Chapter XXXIV: On Sagacity

    Sagacity is a rapid perception of the middle term, or cause, resulting from a consideration of the major and minor terms.
Sagacity is a faculty for hitting upon the middle term in an imperceptible moment of time. For instance, suppose some one, seeing that the moon always has its bright side turned towards the sun, quickly inferred that this was so because the moon receives its light from the sun; or again, seeing someone conversing with a rich man, inferred that he was doing so in order to borrow money; or again inferred that the reason why two persons were friends of one another was that both were enemies of a third person. On seeing the major and minor of the syllogism the sagacious man is able to perceive all the causes or middle terms. Thus: Let A represent ‘having its bright side towards the sun’; B ‘lighted from the sun;’ C ‘the moon.’ Now B, ‘lighted from the sun,’ is true of C, the moon; A, ‘having their bright side towards the body from which the light is received’ is true of all objects denoted by B. Hence A is true of C because it is true of B.
# Portland, Oregon: Its History and Builders/Volume 2/Charlotte Moffett Cartwright

MRS. CHARLOTTE MOFFETT CARTWRIGHT.
Ask any of Oregon's pioneers concerning Mrs. Charlotte Moffett Cartwright and they will tell you of one who from the period of Portland's early development has taken an active and helpful part in the promotion of the civilization of the northwest; ask any connected with benevolent work and they will tell you that Mrs. Cartwright has been a leading factor along many lines of charity, yet she modestly disclaims any recognition for what she has done in these directions. Her good deeds have been the outpouring of a generous spirit and the expression of a nature that in its interests reaches out to all humanity.
Mrs. Cartwright was born in Chicago, Illinois, only five years after the city had been incorporated, her natal day being December 21, 1842. Her parents were James and Sophronia (Kurd) Terwilliger, the former a native of Holland and the latter of Scotch descent. They continued their residence in Chicago until May, 1845, when they started with their four children on a long trip across the plains to Oregon, being members of the party that took the Stephen Meeks "Cut-Off," thinking thus to find a shorter and more speedy route through to the northwest. The company became lost in the mountain wilderness, however, and death and destruction threatened them before they found their way again to the beaten path. Like many others, Mrs. Terwilliger was prostrated by the perils and hardships of the westward journey and survived only a few days after they reached The Dalles. The father with his little family continued on his way down the Columbia and up the Willamette until he arrived at the present site of Portland in November, 1845, and erected the first dwelling—a log cabin—on the immediate site of the city, which was founded in 1847.
The name of Charlotte Terwilliger is found on the roll of the first pupils of the first school taught in Portland. Her girlhood was passed amid the wild scenes and environment of pioneer life here in the little city that was built along the river front and was extending, as the population increased, across the lower levels and on to the surrounding hills. The most farsighted would not have dreamed during the period of her girlhood that Portland Heights and other heavily timbered regions would one day become the most beautiful residence district of the little city. Even at the time of her marriage Portland gave little evidence of the growth to which it has since attained.
# Poems (Southey)/Volume 1/Donica

Donica.
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​In Finland there is a Castle which is called the New Rock, moated about with a river of unsounded depth, the water black and the fish therein very distasteful to the palate. In this are spectres often seen, which foreshew either the death of the Governor, or some prime officer belonging to the place; and most commonly it appeareth in the shape of an harper, sweetly singing and dallying and playing under the water.
It is reported of one Donica, that after she was dead, the Devil walked in her body for the space of two years, so that none suspected but she was still alive; for she did both speak and eat, though very sparingly; only she had a deep paleness on her countenance, which was the only sign of death. At length a Magician coming by where she was then in the company of many other virgins, as soon as he beheld her he said, "fair Maids why keep you company with this dead Virgin whom you suppose to be alive?" when taking away the magic charm which was tied under her arm, the body fell down lifeless and without motion.
The following Ballad is founded on these stories. They are to be found in the notes to The Hierarchies of the blessed Angels; a Poem by Thomas Heywood, printed in folio by Adam Islip, 1635.
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DONICA.
# Poems (Southey)/Volume 1/Inscription 01 - For a Column at Newbury

Inscriptions.
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​The three utilities of Poetry: the praise of Virtue and Goodness, the memory of things remarkable, and to invigorate the Affections.
Welsh Triad.
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INSCRIPTION I.
For a COLUMN at NEWBURY.
# Poems (Southey)/Volume 1/Humphrey and William

HUMPHREY and WILLIAM.
Time, Noon.