OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Poems (Emerson, 1847)/The Apology

THE APOLOGY.
Think me not unkind and rude That I walk alone in grove and glen; I go to the god of the wood To fetch his word to men.
Tax not my sloth that I Fold my arms beside the brook; Each cloud that floated in the sky Writes a letter in my book.
Chide me not, laborious band, For the idle flowers I brought; Every aster in my hand Goes home loaded with a thought.
​There was never mystery But 'tis figured in the flowers; Was never secret history But birds tell it in the bowers.
One harvest from thy field Homeward brought the oxen strong; A second crop thine acres yield, Which I gather in a song.
# Poems (Emerson, 1847)/The Amulet

THE AMULET.
Your picture smiles as first it smiled; The ring you gave is still the same; Your letter tells, O changing child! No tidings since it came.
Give me an amulet That keeps intelligence with you,— Red when you love, and rosier red, And when you love not, pale and blue.
Alas! that neither bonds nor vows Can certify possession; Torments me still the fear that love Died in its last expression.
# Poems (Hinchman)

POEMS
BY
ANNE
HINCHMAN
CAMBRIDGE PRINTED AT THE RIVERSIDE PRESS MDCCCCX
COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY ANNE HINCHMAN
CONTENTS
The Riverside Press
CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS
U . S . A
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
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
# Poems (Kemble)

POEMS.
KEMBLE—Poems, by Francis Anne Botle (late Fanny Kemble) 1st edition, 12mo, cloth, scarce, 5s 1844
"There is a masculine strength and vigour in her Verses—not a little remarkable in an age when men are proud to write effeminately—so delicately do they go, and so softly do they tread, like the Hebrew Ladies of old, when they affect the Poetic character.—The Poems before us are Lyrical, Descriptive, and Didactic, with some few Sonnets, alike distinguished by an earnestness of purpose and energy of style."—Athenæum, July 27.
POEMS,
by
FRANCES ANNE BUTLER,
( LATE FANNY KEMBLE.)
LONDON: (REPRINTED FROM THE AMERICAN EDITION.) HENRY WASHBOURXE, NEW BRIDGE STREET, BLACKFRIARS. OLIVER & BOYD, EDINBURGH; MACHEN & CO. DUBLIN.
MDCCCXLIV.
LONDON: Printed by Stewart and Murray, Old Bailey.
TO
KATHARINE SEDGWICK,
THIS LITTLE VOLUME
IS
MOST RESPECTFULLY, GRATEFULLY,
AND AFFECTIONATELY
INSCRIBED.
CONTENTS.
London: Stewart and Murray, Old Bailey.
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
# Plested v. Abbey

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
228 U.S. 42
Plested v. Abbey
Argued: January 31, 1913. --- Decided: April 7, 1913
Messrs. Jesse G. Northcutt, William C. Prentiss, Robert H. Widdicombe, and A. Watson McHendrie for appellants.
Assistant Attorney General Cobb and Solicitor General Bullitt for appellees.
[Argument of Counsel from pages 43-47 intentionally omitted]
Mr. Chief Justice White delivered the opinion of the court:

## Notes

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Ploughing of Marko Kraljević

* related authors: Marko Mrnjavčević.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
A traditional ballad about Prince Marko.
English-language translations of Oranje Marka Kraljevića include:
* "Marko's Ploughing" in The Ballads of Marko Kraljević, translated and edited by D. H. Low (1922).
* "Ploughing of Marko Kraljevic", translated by Wikisource.
# Ploughshare and Pruning-hook

PLOUGHSHARE AND PRUNING-HOOK
Ten Lectures on Social Subjects
BY
LAURENCE HOUSMAN
FIRST PRINTED SEPTEMBER, 1919
CONTENTS
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 1959, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 64 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
# Pledge of Allegiance (National Flag Conference)

Version of the United States Pledge of Allegiance created for the 1923/1924 National Flag Conference (changes “my Flag” to “the Flag of the United States of America”).
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
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
# Pledge of Allegiance (Harrison)

Version of the United States Pledge of Allegiance endorsed by President Benjamin Harrison and used by children on Columbus Day, 1892 (insertion of word “to”):
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
# Pledge of Allegiance (Bellamy)

The original version of United States Pledge of Allegiance
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 1931, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 92 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
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/A Secret

A SECRET
MY laddie 's a' the world to me! 'T is to himself I owe it That I can never more gae free; But, ah!—he must not know it!
When from my side he roams awa', I scarce believe I'm living; But when he's here—my laddie!—ah, I die for want of giving!
Why must I think upon his smile?— His eyes o'er bright and bonny?— His gladness that doth sae beguile It robs my heart of ony?
Were I a lad, and he a maid, I would na be sae winning; To wound too deep I'd be afraid, And deem such sweetness sinning!
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/A Tomb in Tuscany

A TOMB IN TUSCANY
IN Montepulciano fair,— Long famous for that vintage rare, Prized by the giver of the vine Above all wine,— There dwelt a man whose years had taught him To seek, beyond what wealth had brought him, Something to give his transient name A lasting fame.
"For lordly palaces," he said, "Shall crumble; ay, and bastions dread, And temples grave and gardens gay Become as they; Each vaunted image of my power Shall perish like a wayside flower, And like the hawk my hand hath fed Lie waste and dead.
"Wherefore, ere yet my days be spent, I will uprear a monument That 'gainst the envious floods of Time Shall stand sublime; ​My treasures vast shall serve and cherish An art too heavenly to perish: A beauty, born of passion pure, That shall endure!"
So spake he. . . . Now he lies asleep; But near him forms angelic keep Unwearied watch, and from decay Guard him alway: Rare sculptured forms that blend his story With Donatello's deathless glory, And make mankind his debtors be Eternally.
For lordly castles, as he said, Have crumbled; aye, and bastions dread, And temples grave and gardens gay Are now as they: Each vaunted image of his power Has perished like a wayside flower, But living in the art he fed, He is not dead!
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/Adonis

ADONIS
LOVE is dying; lay him low; Pile the blossoms for his bed:
Here, where languid poppies blow, Pillow soft his beauteous head! Let their dream-breath float around him, Even as my arms enwound him— In the summer, long ago!
Say not it was yesterday! Hours have been as years since then! And shall rapture, fled away, Never more return again? Love, with throbbing heart of fire,— Love, with thrilling voice and low,— Hast thou quenchèd fond desire In this breast of snow?
Then, O Death! I cry to you From my grief immortal: Goddess kind—of all most true— Ope to me your portal! ​In your calm my senses steep; Close mine eyes, from tears grown dim; Give me sleep—I ask but sleep— In the grave, with him.
Can it be that flowers will spring Where all lifeless love shall lie? Can it be that birds will sing, Though Adonis die?
Never earthly bloom, I wis, With his beauty could compare; Never voice was sweet as his Who lieth there; And, thou blue Idalian sky, Thou didst smile upon our lot, And I knew my love must die,— But believed it not!
Whither now to take my way? If I seek on mountains bare, Or in caverns hid from day,— Shall I find him there? Will the rivers give him back, Or the woods of Adon tell? ​Will the hounds that loved him well Follow in his track? Ah, the distance matters not, Nor the way I, mournful, tread: Every path leads from the spot Where my love lies dead!
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/After

AFTER
AFTER the darkness, dawning, And stir of the rested wing; Fresh fragrance from the meadow, Fresh hope in everything!
After the winter, springtime, And dreams, that flower-like throng; After the tempest, silence; After the silence, song.
After the heat of anger, Love that all life enwraps; After the stress of battle, The trumpet sounding "taps."
After despair and doubting, A faith without alloy, God here and over yonder,— The end of all things—joy!
THE END
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/Adieu

ADIEU
ADIEU! I know that I no more Shall behold you, Your future lies beyond her door Who consoled you;
The world has promised to redeem Each new sorrow, It beckons, and you lightly dream Of a morrow.
I weep not, nor shall futile sighs Hold you longer, The pity in your loveless eyes Makes me stronger,
For terrible, past loss of mine, Hath arisen The dread to know what was your shrine— But your prison.
I listen while your lips protest, Heavy hearted, For by your wishes unexpressed— We are parted: ​I listen, and hope's fickle glow Fades away. Why mock my grief? If you can go— Wherefore stay?
In all the past we still were true, You and I, love; Few words suffice to bid adieu, Few to die, love;
The loneliest stand face to face, Disunited, And thoughts of love that strain through space Are requited!
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/Affinity

AFFINITY
ALL are not strangers whom we so misname: Man's free-born spirit, which no rule can tame, Careless of time, o'er vasty distance led, Still finds its own where alien altars flame, Still greets its own, amongst the deathless dead!
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/Alms

ALMS
A BEGGAR, bent beneath the weight of years,— To wretchedness inured, half reconciled,— Entreated help, and I could give but tears; Yet grateful looked the man on me, and smiled.
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/After the Paintings by George F. Watts

AFTER THE PAINTINGS BY GEORGE F. WATTS
I LOVE AND DEATH
A MOMENT, Death!—only a moment more! She is my all; have pity! stay thy hand! Behold, a fearful suppliant I stand! Take not away what thou canst not restore!
At thy approach the birds have ceased to sing, The roses of my lintel droop and pine, The genial sun itself doth coldly shine, And in thy shadow all seems darkening.
That thou art merciless, as men declare, I'll not believe. Thy look is kind, not stern; And they who judge thee ill, of me shall learn To know thee better, Death!—for thou wilt spare!
See, thou art strong! and I am weak—so weak! All beings that draw breath at last are thine: Thou wilt not covet this sole joy of mine— Nor to deprive me of its solace seek? ​Yet come no nearer! Shouldst thou pass this door, My heart that so importunes thee would break. Go back a little! for compassion's sake, Go back! and hither—ah, return no more!
In vain, in vain! O awful Majesty! Thy very breath appalls my fluttering heart. Invader dread, what strength have I, or art— What, save my anguish, to oppose 'gainst thee? . . .
Enter! the door is open. Yet thus much Let my submission of thy pity earn: When through the shaded portal thou return, On me—me, also, lay thy easeful touch!
II LOVE AND LIFE
THY hand I press, And am not much afraid: Though danger lie in wait in every glade, Thou, Love, hast might to comfort and caress My helplessness.
The way is steep; But thou wilt soothe its pain; And when at last the utmost height we gain, To the soft shelter of thy wings I'll creep, And sleep—and sleep.
The way is long; But though I wearied be, Still gazing upward, I shall gaze on thee; And thy angelic voice, more sweet than song, Will make me strong.
Whate'er betide, I, Love,—who may not know Whence I have journeyed, nor the way I go,— Am still content to follow at thy side, O deathless guide!
# Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/Achilles

ACHILLES
WHEN, with a mortal mother's helpless tears, Thetis, the silver-footed, to her son Revealed the choice in death he might not shun; The goddess-born, longing for lengthened years In his own land, with all that life endears— Renounced Earth's breathing pleasures new begun, And chose to die in youth, each conflict won, Leaving a fame no blight autumnal sears.
The Argives sleep, the Trojan hosts are dumb, And no man knows where Homer's ashes be; Yet, echoing down the list'ning ages, come— E'en to this distant nineteenth century— The hero's words by warlike Ilium, And strengthen others, in their need, and me!
# Poems and Ballads (Swinburne)/The Year of Love

THE YEAR OF LOVE.
There were four loves that one by one, Following the seasons and the sun, Passed over without tears, and fell Away without farewell.
The first was made of gold and tears, The next of aspen-leaves and fears, The third of rose-boughs and rose-roots, The last love of strange fruits.
These were the four loves faded. Hold Some minutes fast the time of gold When our lips each way clung and clove To a face full of love.
The tears inside our eyelids met, Wrung forth with kissing, and wept wet The faces cleaving each to each Where the blood served for speech.
The second, with low patient brows Bound under aspen-coloured boughs And eyes made strong and grave with sleep And yet too weak to weep—
The third, with eager mouth at ease Fed from late autumn honey, lees Of scarce gold left in latter cells With scattered flower-smells—
Hair sprinkled over with spoilt sweet Of ruined roses, wrists and feet Slight-swathed, as grassy-girdled sheaves Hold in stray poppy-leaves—
The fourth, with lips whereon has bled Some great pale fruit's slow colour, shed From the rank bitten husk whence drips Faint blood between her lips—
Made of the heat of whole great Junes Burning the blue dark round their moons (Each like a mown red marigold) So hard the flame keeps hold—
These are burnt thoroughly away. Only the first holds out a day Beyond these latter loves that were Made of mere heat and air.
And now the time is winterly The first love fades too: none will see, When April warms the world anew, The place wherein love grew.
Layout 2
# Poems and Ballads (second series)/A Ballad of Dreamland

Previously printed in Belgravia, September, 1876, p. 324.
A BALLAD OF DREAMLAND.
I hid my heart in a nest of roses, Out of the sun's way, hidden apart; In a softer bed than the soft white snow's is, Under the roses I hid my heart. Why would it sleep not? why should it start, When never a leaf of the rose‑tree stirred? What made sleep flutter his wings and part? Only the song of a secret bird.
Lie still, I said, for the wind's wing closes, And mild leaves muffle the keen sun's dart; Lie still, for the wind on the warm sea dozes, And the wind is unquieter yet than thou art. Does a thought in thee still as a thorn's wound smart?
Does the fang still fret thee of hope deferred? What bids the lids of thy sleep dispart? Only the song of a secret bird.
The green land's name that a charm encloses, It never was writ in the traveller's chart, And sweet on its trees as the fruit that grows is, It never was sold in the merchant's mart. The swallows of dreams through its dim fields dart, And sleep's are the tunes in its tree‑tops heard; No hound's note wakens the wildwood hart, Only the song of a secret bird.
envoi.
To sleep for a season and hear no word Of true love's truth or of light love's art, Only the song of a secret bird.
# Poems and Ballads (second series)/A Wasted Vigil

Previously printed (under the tentative title A Lost Vigil) in The Fortnightly Review, December, 1867, pp. 671-672.
A WASTED VIGIL.
I.
Dawn skims the sea with flying feet of gold,
With sudden feet that graze the gradual sea;
Couldst thou not watch with me?
II.
Falls, and her thousands world by world take flight;
They die, and day survives, and what of thee?
Couldst thou not watch with me?
III.
And on the sudden sea the gradual sun;
Wave to wave answers, tree responds to tree;
Couldst thou not watch with me?
IV.
Foam by foam quickens on the brightening brine;
Sail by sail passes, flower by flower gets free;
Couldst thou not watch with me?
V.
A whole year past, with bud and bloom and snow,
O moon that wast in heaven, what friends were we!
Couldst thou not watch with me?
VI.
Who now saith to thee, moon? or who saith, rose?
O dust and ashes, once found fair to see!
Couldst thou not watch with me?
VII.
With me it is not, is it with thee well?
O sea-drift blown from windward back to lee!
Couldst thou not watch with me?
VIII.
The old days are full of dead old loves of ours, Born as a rose, and briefer born than she;
Couldst thou not watch with me?
IX.
One would say, seeking us and passing here,
Where is she? and one answering, Where is he?
Couldst thou not watch with me?
X.
If we were they, none knows us what we were,
Nor aught of all their barren grief and glee.
Couldst thou not watch with me?
XI.
Upon thee not for blessing nor for curse;
For some must stand, and some must fall or flee;
Couldst thou not watch with me?
XII.
But stars endure after the moon is past.
Couldst thou not watch one hour, though I watch three?
Couldst thou not watch with me?
XIII.
Storms inland, the most ancient rocks divide; Yet some endure, and bow nor head nor knee;
Couldst thou not watch with me?
XIV.
Thou hast no part in all my nights and days.
Lie still, sleep on, be glad—as such things be;
Thou couldst not watch with me.
Layout 2
# Poems and Ballads (second series)

First published in 1878, this transcription is of the first edition. Most of the works it contains had previously been published in periodicals. Where this is the case, the details are included for each work based on A Bibliography of the Writings in Prose and Verse of Algernon Charles Swinburne (1912), by Thomas James Wise, in 2 volumes.
POEMS AND BALLADS
SECOND SERIES
LONDON: PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE AND PARLIAMENT STREET
POEMS AND BALLADS
SECOND SERIES
BY
ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE
London
CHATTO AND WINDUS, PICCADILLY
1878
[The right of translation is reserved]
INSCRIBED
TO
RICHARD F. BURTON
IN REDEMPTION OF AN OLD PLEDGE AND IN RECOGNITION OF A FRIENDSHIP WHICH I MUST ALWAYS COUNT AMONG THE HIGHEST HONOURS OF MY LIFE
CONTENTS
layout 2
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
# Poems and Ballads (second series)/A Double Ballad of Good Counsel

A DOUBLE BALLAD OF GOOD COUNSEL.
Now take your fill of love and glee, And after balls and banquets hie; In the end ye'll get no good for fee, But just heads broken by and by; Light loves make beasts of men that sigh; They changed the faith of Solomon, And left not Samson lights to spy; Good luck has he that deals with none!
Sweet Orpheus, lord of minstrelsy, For this with flute and pipe came nigh The danger of the dog's heads three That ravening at hell's door doth lie;
Fain was Narcissus, fair and shy, For love's love lightly lost and won, In a deep well to drown and die; Good luck has he that deals with none!
Sardana, flower of chivalry, Who conquered Crete with horn and cry, For this was fain a maid to be And learn with girls the thread to ply; King David, wise in prophecy, Forgot the fear of God for one Seen washing either shapely thigh; Good luck has he that deals with none!
For this did Amnon, craftily Feigning to eat of cakes of rye, Deflower his sister fair to see, Which was foul incest; and hereby
Was Herod moved, it is no lie, To lop the head of Baptist John For dance and jig and psaltery; Good luck has he that deals with none!
Next of myself I tell, poor me, How thrashed like clothes at wash was I Stark naked, I must needs agree; Who made me eat so sour a pie But Katherine of Vaucelles? thereby, Noé took third part of that fun; Such wedding‑gloves are ill to buy; Good luck has he that deals with none!
But for that young man fair and free To pass those young maids lightly by, Nay, would you burn him quick, not he; Like broom‑horsed witches though he fry,
They are sweet as civet in his eye; But trust them, and you're fooled anon; For white or brown, and low or high, Good luck has he that deals with none!
# Poems and Ballads (second series)/A Song in Season

Previously printed in Belgravia, July, 1876, pp. 5-9.
A SONG IN SEASON.
i.
Knows no duty Due to love that moves thee never; Thou whose mercies Are men's curses, And thy smile a scourge for ever;
ii.
Death and livest On the death of thy sweet giving; Thou that sparest Not nor carest Though thy scorn leave no love living;
iii.
Flower is fruitless As the pride its heart encloses, But thine eyes are As May skies are, And thy words like spoken roses;
iv.
In men's faces Fierce and wayward as thy will is; Thou whose peerless Eyes are tearless, And thy thoughts as cold sweet lilies;
v.
Hearts and makest
Wrecks of loves to strew behind thee, Whom the swallow Sure should follow, Finding summer where we find thee;
vi.
Hearts and breakest, And thy broken hearts forgive thee, That wilt make no Pause and take no Gift that love for love might give thee;
vii.
Eyes and blindest, Serving worst who served thee longest; Thou that speakest, And the weakest Heart is his that was the strongest;
viii.
Thought with reason; Think what gifts are ours for giving; Hear what beauty Owes of duty To the love that keeps it living.
ix.
Long dead lovers Song blows off with breath that brightens; At its flashes Their white ashes Burst in bloom that lives and lightens.
x.
Head or lent not
Ear to love and amorous duties, Song had never Saved for ever, Love, the least of all their beauties.
xi.
Names of olden Women yet by men's love cherished, All our dearest Thoughts hold nearest, Had they loved not, all had perished.
xii.
Of thy beauties, Tell me yet, since none may win them, What and wherefore Love should care for Of all good things hidden in them?
xiii.
Comes but of it, If the lips that lure their lover's Hold no treasure Past the measure Of the lightest hour that hovers.
xiv.
Or forgive not Gifts or thefts for grace or guerdon, Love that misses Fruit of kisses Long will bear no thankless burden.
xv.
Though love were not,
If no breath of his burn through them, Joy must borrow Song from sorrow, Fear teach hope the way to woo them.
xvi.
Grief has measures Soft as pleasure's, Fear has moods that hope lies deep in, Songs to sing him, Dreams to bring him, And a red‑rose bed to sleep in.
xvii.
Looks and tearless Lies and laughs too near the thunder; Fear hath sweeter Speech and meeter For heart's love to hide him under.
xviii.
Fills his playtime Full of songs loud mirth takes pride in; Night and morrow Weave round sorrow Thoughts as soft as sleep to hide in.
xix.
Loveless graces, Are but motes in light that quicken, Sands that run down Ere the sundown, Roseleaves dead ere autumn sicken.
xx.
Charms are bootless
Spells to ward off age's peril; Lips that give not Love shall live not, Eyes that meet not eyes are sterile.
xxi.
Bound in duty Fast to love that falls off never Love shall cherish Lest it perish, And its root bears fruit for ever.
# Poems (David)/Fragment (Father! 'tis Thine Almighty Hand)

"Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God."—
Isaiah xl. 1.