OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Waltham

Edition of 1879. See also Waltham, Massachusetts on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
WALTHAM, a town of Middlesex co., Massachusetts, on the Charles river and the Fitchburg railroad, 10 m. W. by N. of Boston; pop. in 1850, 4,464; in 1860, 6,397; in 1870, 9,065; in 1875, 9,945. The most populous portion of the town is built principally on one street more than a mile long, and contains numerous fine residences. It is lighted with gas, and has water works recently erected and a good fire department. Waltham is extensively engaged in manufacturing. The chief establishments are the cotton cloth and hosiery factory and bleaching and dye works of the Boston manufacturing company, and the works of the American watch company, the most extensive in the world, and the first established (1854) for making watches by machinery. Hollow ware, machinery, paper, cabinet ware, and boots and shoes are also produced. There are a national bank with a capital of $150,000, and a savings bank with $1,150,000 deposits. The assessed value of property is more than $10,000,000. The town contains a high school, two grammar schools, about 25 of lower grades, and a Swedenborgian theological school. The free public library contains nearly 8,000 volumes. Two weekly newspapers are published. There are eight churches: Baptist, Congregational, Episcopal, Methodist, Roman Catholic, Swedenborgian, Unitarian, and Universalist. Waltham was separated from Watertown and incorporated in 1738.
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Christ Has for Sin Atonement Made

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| 198 | Christ Has for Sin Atonement Made |
| 198 | (WHAT A WONDERFUL SAVIOUR ) |
| Elisha A. Hoffman Elisha A. Hoffman |||
| A musical score should appear at this position in the text. See Help:Sheet music for formatting instructions |||
* Christ has for sin atonement made, What a wonderful Saviour! We are redeemed! the price is paid ! What a wonderful Saviour! Refrain What a wonderful Saviour is Jesus, my Jesus! What a wonderful Saviour is Jesus, my Lord! (Last v.)Amen.
* I praise him for the cleansing blood, What a wonderful Saviour! That reconciled my soul to God; What a wonderful Saviour! Refrain
* He cleansed my heart from all its sin, What a wonderful Saviour! And now he reigns and rules therein ; What a wonderful Saviour! Refrain
* He walks beside me all the way, What a wonderful Saviour! And keeps me faithful day by day; What a wonderful Saviour! Refrain
* He gives me overcoming power, What a wonderful Saviour! And triumph in each trying hour; What a wonderful Saviour! Refrain
* To him I've given all my heart, What a wonderful Saviour! The world shall never share a part; What a wonderful Saviour! Refrain
Copyright, 1891, by The Biglow & Main Co., New York
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Come, Thou Almighty King

This hymn is often attributed to Charles Wesley because it was first published alongside Wesley's "Jesus, Let Thy Pitying Eye". However, this hymn was never published in Wesley's hymnals and there is no evidence of his authorship.
* Come, thou almighty King, Help us thy name to sing, Help us to praise: Father, all glorious, O'er all victorious, Come, and reign over us, Ancient of Days.
* Come thou incarnate Word, Gird us on thy mighty sword, Our Prayer attend: Come, and thy people bless, And give thy word success; Spirit of holiness, On us descend.
* Come, holy Comforter, Thy sacred witness bear In this glad hour: Thou who almighty art, Now rule in every heart, And ne'er from us depart, Spirit of power.
* To thee, great One in Three, Eternal praises be Hence evermore. His sov'reign majesty May we in glory see, And to eternity Love and adore. A-men
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Christ for the World We Sing

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| 168 | Christ for the World We Sing |
| 168 | (ITALIAN HYMN. 6, 6, 4, 6, 6, 6, 4) |
| Samuel Wolcott, 1869 Felice de Giardini, 1769 |||
| A musical score should appear at this position in the text. See Help:Sheet music for formatting instructions |||
* Christ for the world we sing! The world to Christ we bring With loving zeal; The poor, and them that mourn, The faint and overborne, Sin sick and sorrow worn, Whom Christ doth heal.
* Christ for the world we sing! The world to Christ we bring With fervent prayer; The wayward and the lost, By restless passion tossed, Redeemed at countless cost From dark despair.
* Christ for the world we sing! The world to Christ we bring With one accord; With us the work to share, With us reproach to dare, With us the cross to bear For Christ our Lord. Amen.
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing

"Nettleton" is often attributed to John Wyeth, in whose Repository of Sacred Music (1813) it was first published. It was listed as a new tune, but no authorship was listed. It is also often attributed to Asahel Nettleton, hence the piece's name, but Nettleton published this hymn in Village Hymns (1825) without music and there is no evidence of him having ever composed any hymn tunes.
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| | Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing | 112 |
| | (NETTLETON. 8, 7, 8, r, 8, 7, 8, 7) | 112 |
| Robert Robinson, 1758 John Wyeth, 1812 |||
| A musical score should appear at this position in the text. See Help:Sheet music for formatting instructions |||
* O Come, thou fount of every blessing, Tune my heart to sing thy grace Streams of mercy never ceasing, Call for songs of loud-est praise. Teach me some melodious sonnet, Sung by flaming tongues above ; Praise thy mount; I'm fixed upon it, Mount of God's unchanging love !
* Here I raise my Ebenezer; Hither by thy help I'm come; And I hope, by thy good pleasure; Safely to arrive at home, Jesus sought me when a stranger, Wandering from the fold of God; He, to rescue me from danger, Interposed with precious blood.
* 0 to grace how great a debtor Daily I'm constrained to be! Let that grace now, like a fetter, Bind my wandering heart to thee. Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it; Prone to leave the God I love; Here's my heart ; O take and seal it, Seal it from my courts above. Amen.
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Come, Ye Disconsolate

* Come, ye disconsolate, where'er ye languish, Come to the mercy-seat, fervently kneel: Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish; Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.
* Joy of the desolate, light of the straying, Hope of the penitent, fadeless and pure, Here speaks the Comforter, tenderly saying, 'Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot cure.'
* Here see the Bread of Life; see waters flowing Forth from the throne of God, pure from above; Come to the feast pre-pared; come, ever knowing 'Earth has no sorrows but heaven can remove.' Amen.
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Come, Ye Thankful People, Come

This combination of Alford's "Come, Ye Thankful People, Come" (first verse with altered fifth line), with Barbauld's "Praise to God, Immortal Praise" (second verse and first half of third verse) was first published by Hartshorne in his 1915 hymnal The Book of Worship of the Church School.
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| 178 | Come, Ye Thankful People, Come |
| 178 | (ST. GEORGE'S, WINDSOR. 7,7,7,D.)) |
| Henry Alford, 1844 Anna L. Barbauld, 1772 Altered by Hugh Hartshorns George J. Elvey, 1858 |||
| A musical score should appear at this position in the text. See Help:Sheet music for formatting instructions |||
* Come, ye thankful people, come, Raise the song of harvest home; All is safely gathered in, Ere the winter storms begin; God, our Maker, doth provide For our wants to be supplied; Come to God's own temple, come, Raise the song of harvest home.
* All the blessings of the field, All the stores the gardens yield; All the fruits in full supply, Ripened 'neath the summer sky; All that spring with bounteous hand Scatters o'er the smiling land; All that liberal autumn pours From her rich o'er flowing stores:
* These to thee, our God, we owe, Source whence all our blessings flow; And for these our souls shall raise Grateful vows and solemn praise. Come,then, thankful people, come, Raise the song of harvest home; Come to God's own temple, come, Raise the song of harvest home. Amen.
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Close of Worship

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* Lord, Dismiss Us with Thy Blessing
* Saviour, Again to Thy Dear Name
* God Be with You Till We Meet Again
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Christ the Lord Is Risen To-day

The anonymous tune, usually titled Easter Hymn, was first published in Lyra Davidica. It is sometimes erroneously attributed to John Worgan.
* Christ the Lord is risen today, Alleluia! Sons of men and angels say: Alleluia! Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia! Sing, ye heav'ns,and earth reply. Alleluia!
* Lives again our glorious King: Alleluia! Where, O death, is now thy sting? Alleluia! Dying once, he all doth save: Alleluia! Where thy victory, O grave? Alleluia!
* Love's redeeming work is done, Alleluia! Fought the fight, the battle won; Alleluia! Death in vain forbids him rise; Alleluia! Christ has opened Paradise. Alleluia!
* Soar we now, where Christ has led, Alleluia! Following our exalted Head; Alleluia! Made like him, like him we rise. Alleluia! Ours the cross, the grave, the skies. Alleluia! Amen.
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Christians, Lo, the Star Appeareth

| 51 | Christians, Lo, the Star Appeareth |
| 51 | (BEECHER ) |
* Christians, lo, the star appeareth; Lo, 'tis yet Messiah's day; Still with tribute treasure laden Come the wise men on their way. Where a life is spent in service, Walking where the Master trod, There is scattered myrrh most fragrant For the blessed Christ of God.
* Whoso bears his brother's burden, Whoso shares another's woe, Brings his frankincense to Jesus With the men of long ago. When we soothe earth's weary children, Tending best the least of them, 'Tis the Lord himself we worship Bringing gold to Bethlehem.
James A. Blaisdell, 1900
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Come, We Who Love the Lord

First published in Hymns & Sacred Songs, 1707. The tune, "St. Thomas", is an excerpt from the longer tune "Holborn".
* Come, we who love the Lord, And let our joys be known; Join in a song of sweet acccord, And thus surrond the throne.
* Let those refuse to sing Who never knew our god; But children of the heav'nly King Should speak thier joys abroad
* The men of grace have found Glory begun below; Celestial fruits on earthly ground From faith and hope may grow.
* The hill of Zion yields A thousand sacred sweets Before we reach the heav'nly fields, Or walk the golden streets.
* Then let our songs abound And every tear be dry; We're marching thro' Emanuael's ground To fairer worlds on high. Amen
# The Bengali Book of English Verse/Sonnets (Michael Madhusudan Dutt)

Sonnets. I.
I am not rich, nay, nor the future heir
To sparkling gold or silver heaped on store;
There is no marble blushing on my floor
With thousand varied dies:—no gilded chair,
No cushions, carpets that by riches are
Brought from the Persian land, or Turkish shore;
There is no menial waiting at my door
Attentive to the knell: and all things rare, Born in remotest regions, that shine in
And grace the rich-man's hall, are wanting here.
These are not things that by blind Fate have been
Allotted ever to the poor man's share:
These are not things, these eyes have ever seen,
Tho' their proud names have sounded in this ear!
II.
But oh! I grieve not;—for the azure sky
With all its host of stars that brightly shine, The green-robed earth with all her flow'rs divine,
The verdant vales and every mountain high, Those beauteous meads that now do glittering lie
Clad in bright sun-shine,—all, oh! all are mine!
And much there is on which my ear and eye
Can feast luxurious!—why should I repine?
The furious Gale that howls and fiercely blows, The gentler Breeze that sings with tranquil glee,
The silver Rill that gayly warbling flows, And e'en the dark and ever-lasting Sea,
All, all these bring oblivion for my woes, And all these have transcendent charms for me!
# The Bengali Book of English Verse/Sonnet—India (Hur Chunder Dutt)

Sonnet.
INDIA.
O yes! I love thee with a boundless love, Land of my birth; and while I lisp thy name, Burns in my soul 'an Aetna of pure flame' Which none can quench nor aught on earth remove. Back from the shrouded past, as with a spell, Thy days of glory memory recalls, And castles rise, and towers, and flanking walls, And soldiers live, for thee dear land who fell; But as from dreams of bliss men wake to mourn, So mourn I when that vision is no more, And in poor lays thy widowed fate deplore, Thy trophies gone, thy beauteous laurels torn, But Time shall yet be mocked;—though these decay, I see broad streaks of a still brighter day.
# The Bengali Book of English Verse/Samarsi (Greece Chunder Dutt)

Samarsi.
Samarsi the bold is the pride of his clan, But he owns not an acre in broad Rajasthan; Samarsi the bold is the hope of the true, But his sporran is empty, his henchmen are few, For the Moors o'er the Jumna in triumph have come, And Samarsi the bold is an exile from home.
Though the Moslem now feasts in his hall and his bower, And the crescent flag flutters from temple and tower, Though the chase and the forest, the pass and the height, Are watched by the soldiers by day and by night, Samarsi the bold is as merry as when His will was the law in his loved native glen.
For the roebuck still bounds by the dark haunted lake, And the partridge still springs from the deep tangled brake,
And the perch and the salmon in silv'ry shoals gleam, At morning and noontide in pool and in stream, And spite of their warders on hill and on plain Samarsi can harry his father's domain.
Though an outlaw decreed by the chiefs of the foe, Samarsi has homage from high and from low, For the copsewood is heavy by Saloombra park, And the vale of Banmora at noonday is dark, And he's ready, aye ready, right firmly to stand By the wood or the pass with his sword in his hand.
In the cave of Pokurna, beneath the green hill, Where the throstle keeps time to the soft-crooning rill, Samarsi at nightfall, unknown to the Moor, Lights his watch-fire in peace, when his labours are o'er, And revels in freedom till morning again Gives the signal to mount and ride down to the plain.
# The Bengali Book of English Verse/Song from the Bengali (Govin Chunder Dutt)

GOVIN CHUNDER DUTT, 1828–1884.
Song from the Bengali.
Oh, never look on woman's eyes! Their serpent gaze will fascinate And then betray thee; youth, be wise And fly their lustre ere too late; Or shouldst thou linger, loth to part, Oh, never, never trust her heart!
Oh, never list to woman's voice! There's flattery in its every tone To make thy pulses throb, rejoice, And leave thee then to mourn alone; But shouldst thou linger, loth to part, Oh, never, never trust her heart!
Oh, never let thy bosom heave For woman's twin-born blush and smile! The glittering smile will oft deceive, The blush, alas ! as oft beguile;
But shouldst thou linger, loth to part, Oh, never, never trust her heart!
# The Bengali Book of English Verse/Sonnets—War (Omesh Chunder Dutt)

Sonnets—War.
I
How terrible art thou O iron War! With vengeful furies in thy long-drawn train, Thy step is found e'en o'er the trackless main, Nor rock, nor sea thy fiery course can bar. Where'er thou goest in thy rattling car, Deserted hamlet and ensanguin'd plain, Attest thy cruel and tyrannic reign, And flaming towns gleam lurid from afar. Thy blood-red standard to the winds display'd, Thy drum's deep roll, thy trumpets shrill and clear, The thunder of the furious cannonade, Are sights and sounds which fill the heart with fear; For they presage, alas! too well we know. Rapine and wreck, untimely death and woe.
II.
But yesterday upon this ravaged spot, Rose the proud city lifting high in air Its graceful arches and its columns fair, Here was the mart with life and tumult fraught; O cruel War, what ruin hast thou wrought! Outrage and wrong are rampant everywhere: Hark to those shrieks, wild cry, and hopeless prayer, Bursting alike from hall and lowly cot!
Is this the glory, this the deathless fame, Which thou dost promise to thy lawless crew! Shall we for this emblazon forth thy name, Shall we for this thy path with flowerets strew! Away,—tho' proud thy brow, and dark its frown, It is not worthy of the victor's crown.
# The Bengali Book of English Verse/Sivajee (Shoshee Chunder Dutt)

SHOSHEE CHUNDER DUTT, 1825-1886.
Sivajee.
AURUNGZEB'S RECEPTION OF THE MAHRATTA LEADER.
They led him to the stately hall, Before the royal throne, Where, towering in the pomp of power, The tyrant sat alone; And knights and nobles stood around, Elate with haughty pride, And slaves, in gorgeous tinsel dress'd, Awaited by their side.
He knelt before the tyrant's throne, But caught no courtly smile: The monarch look'd with eye of scorn, Then darkly gazed awhile; And minions proud, whose hearts had quail'd When told his name of fear, Now mock'd the valiant Sivajee With cold respect and sneer.
He could not bear their servile scorn— The scorn of vassals low, The passions of his stubborn heart Were gathering on his brow; His bosom, plough'd with manly scars, The records of his fame, Now heaved with all a warrior's wrath: He was not born to shame.
In dudgeon high he left the court, Nor ask'd the king's command; But found himself deceived, betray'd, A captive in the land. But who can cross the fox's wile? Control the eagle free? The royal guards are shrewd and true, But where is Sivajee?
The bird has flown; no stubborn cage Its wily heart could tame; For deadlier works of death prepare— He comes with sword and flame! Ye ply to trap with subtle words; That feeble art is vain; The trusting bird, when once deceived, Will never trust again.
No, ne'er again he'll cross the hall To cringe on servile knee, But oft, through battle's dusky smoke, His blood-red sword ye'll see; At merry feast he may not join, But through the war-clouds dun, O'er gasping chiefs and soldiers slain, He'll lead the carnage on.
The bravest hearts shall own with dread The fury of his wrath, And sights of woe alone shall mark The dread avenger's path; With horror mute the wife shall gaze Upon her murder'd lord, While yet shall glow, though wet and dim, The unrelenting sword.
On vengeance he will build his name, Till rocks aloud resound The glory of his valiant arms, And quakes the unconscious ground; Till e'en the scorner, from his throne, Shall mark the kindling fire, And wish that he had never stirr'd That haughty soul's dark ire.
# The Bengali Book of English Verse/Robert Knight (Nabakrishna Ghosh)

Robert Knight.
Sudden the Indian sky is overcast, And all the land is shrouded deep in gloom: A wail goes forth from many an Indian home, And tears from old and young are streaming fast.
For where is he, our fearless champion bold, India's unflinching advocate and friend, Whose lofty purpose and whose cherish'd end, Were Justice, Truth, and Righteousness to uphold?
Alas, the generous soul is now no more! Hush'd the large heart, whose love our hearts had won! O noble Knight, thy mortal warfare o'er, O weary pilgrim thy long journey done,
Rest, from thy loving toil and labour rest, Repose, in peace on thy Redeemer's breast!
# The Bengali Book of English Verse/Sir Asutosh Mookerjee (Roby Datta)

Sir Asutosh Mookerjee.
He rose, a meteor, in the midst of men To awe the world with splendour: many a star, That might in other skies have shone afar, Beside him paled, and swam not into ken.
His lore with glory fill'd the quarters then, And won him such a name as nought could mar: He fought, and gain'd success without a scar, A valiant knight, whose weapon was his pen.
Good-temper'd, even-minded, patient, wise, He lent his aid wherever he could meet A man of promise that deserved to rise:
In dealing justice fairly, none could beat His breadth of view, and none the solemn guise In which all fine distinctions he would greet.
# The Bengali Book of English Verse/Song from "Osmyn" (Rajnarain Dutt)

RAJNARAIN DUTT,
1824–1889.
Song.
The Beduins have mounted their steeds, and afar Their Cohorts advance in the proud ranks of war, They have braced on the shield, and the sword by their side And forth are they gone on a foray to ride.
On, on through the forest they gallop away, Like the prowler that rushes in wrath on the prey; At the clang of their steeds, and the clash of their arm, The owl and the tiger will start in alarm.
O'er hill, and o'er valley they ride with the blast, Ah! blood shall soon mark where those footsteps have past, Like the lightning they come, like the lightning they go, To work out destruction and slaughter and woe.
For the right of their chieftain the broad-sword they draw, Revenge is their leader, and vengeance their law; And reckless alike of disgrace or renown, Their highest ambition's to crush the foe down.
Ah, soon will those hills with the thunder be riven, And soon will the proud steed to battle be driven, The smoke of the village, and shrieks of the prey, Shall yield to stern war the red spoil of decay.
# The Bengali Book of English Verse/Sonnets—Peace (Omesh Chunder Dutt)

Sonnets—Peace.
I.
Come gentle Peace, with Plenty at thy side, And scatter with a free and bounteous hand, Thy gifts and blessings over all the land. The earth has worn the rich robes of a bride, The trees lift up their stately heads in pride, The cloudless skies with varied hues look grand, The air is full of perfume sweet and bland, To welcome thee, O goddess tender-eyed! We love thee with an ardent love sincere, For 'neath thy quiet and benignant sway, Gaunt Care, and sombre Grief, and trembling Fear Depart, and vanish from our homes away, And sunshine lights each heart so dark erewhile, The glad bright sunshine of thy cheerful smile.
II.
Lo! where they stand upon yon village green, Youths and young maidens in a joyous round, Hark to the violin and pipe's sweet sound, As they strike up to greet May's lovely queen. High in the midst the slender pole is seen, With garlands bright and prizes gaily crown'd; O, can a fairer sight than this be found,
Where all is mirth, no shadows intervene! O Peace, our guardian angel, may thy throne Be fix'd and steadfast on our fertile shore, And may we ne'er thy sov'reignty disown, But love and worship thee for evermore; The crown, the laurel wreath are meet for thee, Thine is the triumph, thine the victory!
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/The Son of God Goes Forth to War

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| 120 | The Son of God Goes Forth to War |
| 120 | (ALL SAINTS. C. M. D.) |
| Reginald Heber, 1827 Henry S. Cutler, 1872 |||
| A musical score should appear at this position in the text. See Help:Sheet music for formatting instructions |||
* The son of God goes forth to war, A kingly crown to gain; His blood-red banner streams afar; Who follows in his train ? Who best can drink his cup-of woe Triumphant over pain, Who patient bears his cross below, He follows in his train.
* The martyr first, whose eagle eye Could pierce beyond the grave, Who saw his Master in the sky, And called on him to save ; Like him, with pardon on his tongue, In midst of mortal pain, He prayed for them that did the wrong: Who follows in his train ?
* A glorious band, the chosen few On whom the Spirit came, Twelve valiant saints,their hope they knew, And mocked the cross and flame; They met the tyrant's brandished steel, The lion's gory mane ; They bowed their necks the stroke to feel; Who follows in their train?
* A noble army, men and boys, The matron and the maid, Around the Saviour's throne rejoice, In robes of light arrayed: They climbed the steep ascent of heaven Thro' peril, toil, and pain: O God, to us may grace be given To follow in their train? Amen.