OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Biographical Dictionary of America/Armour, Philip D.

​ARMOUR, Philip D., manufacturer, was born at Stockbridge, Madison county, N. Y., May 16, 1832. He received a common-school education, and when twenty years old went with a party to California in search of gold, where he remained for several years. Upon his return he settled in Milwaukee, Wis., where he engaged in a grocery and commission business. In 1863 he became associated with John Plankinton in the business of packing pork and beef. In 1875 he removed to Chicago and greatly extended the business. In 1895 his establishment employed twelve thousand persons, to whom it paid in wages nearly seven millions of dollars annually. Mr. Armour also ​owned a number of grain elevators and a glue factory. Two of his best known charities are the Armour mission and the Armour institute in Chicago, costing $1,500,000. He died in Chicago, Ill., Jan. 6, 1901.
# The Biographical Dictionary of America/Argüello, Luis Antonio

​ARGÜELLO, Luis Antonio, governor of California, was born in San Francisco, Cal., June 21, 1784, son of José Darío and Ignacia Moraga Argüello. He entered the military service as cadet of the San Francisco company on Sept. 6, 1799, the following year became an ensign, and in March, 1806, was promoted to the lieutenancy and a few months later his father turned over to him the command of the company. In 1817 he was promoted to the rank of captain, and with this rank he held the command of San Francisco until his appointment as governor. In 1818 he made a boat voyage up the Sacramento river, and in 1821 made an expedition to the far north. On Nov. 9, 1822, he was elected president of the provincial deputation, and thus became temporary governor of California in place of Sola, who had previously been elected a deputy to the imperial congress. About November 22 he took possession of the office of governor, and removed from San Francisco to Monterey. The office was, at that time, a very difficult one, the troops being unpaid, and affairs being generally in a very lax and slovenly condition. Argüello immediately devised a system of taxation by which sufficient means could be raised to pay official salaries and other obligations. His administration was marked by prompt and judicious action in all emergencies. In the fall of 1825, Argüello delivered over the government to Echeandía, his successor, and early in 1826 he resumed his position as commandante, but having had a disagreement with Echeandía, that governor ordered his pay as commandante to cease on April 15, 1826, without giving any explanation. Argüello died at San Francisco, March 27, 1830.
# The Biographical Dictionary of America/Armitage, Thomas

​ARMITAGE, Thomas, clergyman, was born at Pontefract, Yorkshire, Eng., Aug. 2, 1819. He was licensed as a local preacher by the Wesleyans, delivering his first sermon in his sixteenth year. He imbibed political opinions which led him to the United States in 1838, settled in New York, entered the Methodist ministry, and labored as a circuit preacher for ten years. Doubts assailed him as to the doctrine of sinless perfection, and in regard to the Methodist church government; and in 1848 he left that denomination to join the Baptists. He was baptized in the Pearl street church, Albany, ordained a few months later, and instilled as pastor of the Norfolk street church, July 1, 1848. The congregation later erected a new place of worship, the "Fifth Avenue Baptist church," where Dr. Armitage ministered to them until his death. In 1850 he was largely instrumental in founding the American Bible Union, of which, in 1856, he became the president. Dr. Armitage was an eloquent and powerful preacher and a cultivated scholar. He was deeply interested in the revision of the scriptures, particularly in regard to the translation of the Greek word for baptism. His published writings are: "Lectures on Preaching, its Ideal and Inner Life" (1880), and a "History of the Baptists" (1886). Georgetown college, Kentucky, conferred upon him the degree of D.D. in 1853, and later gave him that of LL.D. He died Jan. 20, 1896.
# The City of Dreadful Night and other poems/To a Pianiste

TO A PIANISTE.
I saw thee once, I see thee now; Thy pure young face, thy noble mien, Thy truthful eyes, thy radiant brow; All childlike, lovely, and serene; Rapt in harmonious visions proud, Scarce conscious of the audient crowd.
I heard thee when the instrument, Possessed and quickened by thy soul, Impassioned and intelligent, Responded to thy full control With all the treasures of its dower, Its sweetest and its grandest power.
I saw and heard with such delight As rarely charms our lower sphere: Blind Handel would not miss his sight, Thy beauty voiced thus in his ear; Beethoven in that face would see His glorious unheard harmony.
# The City of Masks

Edition: New York,; Dodd, Mead and Co, 1918. Was adapted into a film of the same name in 1920.
THE CITY OF MASKS
BY
GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON
Author of "Brewster's Millions," "The Hollow of Her Hand," "Shot with Crimson," etc.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY MAY WILSON PRESTON
NEW YORK DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY
1918
Copyright, 1918 By DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, Inc
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 1928, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 95 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
# The City of Dreadful Night and other poems/The Three that shall be One

THE THREE THAT SHALL BE ONE.
1863.
Love on the earth alit, Come to be Lord of it; Looked round and laughed with glee, Noble my empery Straight ere that laugh was done Sprang forth the royal sun, Pouring out golden shine Over the realm divine.
Came then a lovely may, Dazzling the new-born day, Wreathing her golden hair With the red roses there, Laughing with sunny eyes Up to the sunny skies, Moving so light and free To her own minstrelsy.
Love with swift rapture cried, Dear Life, thou art my bride! Whereto, with fearless pride, Dear Love, indeed thy bride! All the earth's fruit and flowers, All the world's wealth are ours; Sun, moon, and stars gem Our marriage diadem.
So they together fare, Lovely and joyous pair; So hand in hand they roam All through their Eden home; Each to the other's sight An ever-new delight: Blue heaven and blooming earth Joy in their darlings' mirth.
Who comes to meet them now,— She with the pallid brow, Wreathing her night-dark hair With the red poppies there, Pouring from solemn eyes Gloom through the sunny skies, Moving so silently In her deep reverie?
Life paled as she drew near, Love shook with doubt and fear. Ah, then, she said, in truth (Eyes full of yearning ruth), Love, thou would'st have this Life, Fair may! to be thy wife? Yet at an awful shrine Wert thou not plighted mine?
Pale, paler poor Life grew; Love murmured, It is true! How could I thee forsake? From the brief dream I wake. Yet, O belovèd Death, See how she suffereth; Ere we from earth depart Soothe her, thou tender heart!
Faint on the ground she lay; Love kissed the swoon away; Death then bent over her, Death the sweet comforter! Whispered with tearful smile, Wait but a little while, Then I will come for thee; We are one family.
# The City of Dreadful Night and other poems/Virtue and Vice

VIRTUE AND VICE.
1865.
She was so good, and he was so bad: A very pretty time they had! A pretty time, and it lasted long: Which of the two was more in the wrong? He befouled in the slough of sin; Or she whose piety pushed him in? He found her yet more cold and staid As wedded wife than courted maid: She filled their home with freezing gloom; He felt it dismal as a tomb: Her steadfast mind disdained his toys Of worldly pleasures, carnal joys; Her heart firm-set on things above Was frigid to his earthly love.
So he came staggering home at night; Where she sat chilling, chaste, and white:
She smiled a scornful virtuous smile, He flung good books with curses vile. Fresh with the early morn she rose, While he yet lay in a feverish doze: She prayed for blessings from the Throne, He called for "a hair of the dog" with a groan: She blessed God for her strength to bear The heavy load,—he 'gan to swear: She sighed, Would Heaven, ere yet too late, Bring him to see his awful state! The charity thus sweetly pressed Made him rage like one possessed.
So she grew holier day by day, While he grew all the other way. She left him: she had done her part To wean from sin his sinful heart, But all in vain; her presence might Make him a murderer some mad night. Her family took her back, pure saint, Serene in soul, above complaint: The narrow path she strictly trod, And went in triumph home to God: While he into the Union fell, Our halfway house on the road to Hell. With which would you rather pass your life The wicked husband or saintly wife?
# The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter/I Prayed So Eagerly

From The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter (1907).
I PRAYED SO EAGERLY
I prayed so eagerly, “Turn and see How bitter I have striven— A word and all forgiven.” I prayed so eagerly.
I prayed so eagerly— Not to be; You turned and passed. Goodbye! Fates smile for me, dreamed I— Yet I prayed eagerly.
# The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter/In Any Garden

From The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter (1907).
IN ANY GARDEN
Down his long garden he did slowly go, For fairer sight did each new path disclose; Now bent he where the purple asters glow, Now stayed his feet beside a changing rose.
Like some pale leaf blown by an upward wind, A butterfly danced in a sunbeam caught, Then lit upon a lily-bell to find The honey by some laggard bee forgot.
Upon a mossy step the old dial stood That told the sunny hours; he climbed to see. “Pass slow, sweet shade,” he said; “the world is good, Yet bless you for the hours that are to be.”
He raised his head : the wind blew back his hair. He heard the clanging of a distant spade, And saw an old man in the garden fair. Who all amongst the flowers a havoc made.
Deep, wide, and dark the digger made his bed, — A fearful hollow in the pleasant place. “Why dig you here?” the youth unto him said; “Within this grave what flower would you efface?”
And as he called, the digger paused awhile, And looked upon him with strange eyes, nor spoke. So that the youth ran forward from the dial, And with his call the echoing garden woke.
From flower to flower the echo caught the cry; The hollyhock let drop its crimson bell: “For me! Ah, not for me! I shall not die”— The pale rose shook till all her petals fell
But when the youth reached that green canopy Where he had watched the digger, there was none, Nor any grave. There only could he see The shadow of the yew tree in the sun.
“'Twas but the shade and shaking of your leaf,” He smiled — then shuddered as he turned away. It shook in silent merriment—or grief. With tears or laughter—which, no man can say.
# The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter/In Wintry Weather

From The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter (1907).
IN WINTRY WEATHER
Dear, in wintry weather, How close we crept together! The storms, with all their thunder, Could not our fond hands sunder. No sorrow followed after Cold words or scornful laughter. How close we crept together, Through all the wintry weather!
Dear, when each rose uncurled To its sweet narrow world, You went to cull its glory; You would not hear my story, Too sweet the birds were singing, Too fair the buds were swinging. If I should come or go You did not care to know.
When each sweet rose uncurled To its unknown world, How could you e'er remember That in a bleak December, Through all the bitter weather, We crept so close together?
# The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter/In a Wood

From The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter (1907).
IN A WOOD
Hush, 'tis thy voice! No, but a bird upon the bough Romancing to its mate, but where art thou To bid my heart rejoice?
'Tis thy hand, speak! No, but the branches striking in the wind Let loose a withered leaf that falls behind, Blown to my cheek.
Hush, thy footfall! No, 'tis a streamlet hidden in the fern. Thus from dawn to dark I wait, I learn Sorrow is all.
# The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter/In the Midst of Life

From The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter (1907).
“IN THE MIDST OF LIFE…”
All the long day the robin on the spray Piped his sweet song To her who on her hidden nest Oft turned beneath her patient breast Her pretty eggs in tender quest All the long day.
All the long day the blossoms on the spray Shook 'neath his song. Kissed by the sun each petal curled To perfect flower, its bloom unfurled To fling fine incense to the world All the day long.
All the long day there passed me on their way A busy throng— The laden bee to her abode, The toiling ant who drew her load Across the danger of the road All the day long.
All the long day I heard from far away A slow ding-dong; Within the vale the village lies, All still beneath the smiling skies, Save this sad bell that swings and cries All the day long.
# The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter/Index to First Lines

Index to First Lines
PAGE
* UNWIN BROTHERS LIMITED, THE GRESHAM PRESS, WOKING AND LONDON.
# The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter/I Would Have Wept

From The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter (1907).
I WOULD HAVE WEPT
I would have wept with the beast, The bird, the blossoming flower, The hundred years of the oak, Or the insect born for an hour,
Saying with my soul's right: Ah, woe for your body's pain! Therein you must die, and pass Into dust, without hope of gain.
From the weary feet's toiling to spring To oblivion, and never to know That the horrible pains of the flesh You have left in the body below;
That He leaves you an heirdom of pain, And forgets you when dropped from His hand That had mercy for us; you would die In your grief, could you understand.
But the oxen looked up as I spoke, For a moment in mild surprise. Then bent again to the yoke, With peace in their dreaming eyes.
And a small brown bird on her nest Hid her speckled eggs with care. Lest one should chill while her mate Sang high in the golden air.
Still the flower and tree 'neath the son Unfolded their buds to bloom; And the fly, clad in sombre grey, Danced over the faint perfume.
And the sun coming forth from a cloud Shone fair on a smiling land. I said: Hush, questioning heart; 'Tis you cannot understand.
# The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter/Innocence

From The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter (1907).
INNOCENCE
White rose must die all in the youth and beauty of the year, Though nightingale should sing the whole night through, Though summer breezes woo, She will not hear.
Too delicate for the sun's kiss so hot and passionate, Or for the rude caresses of the wind, She drooped and pined— They mourned too late.
Birds carol clear: “Summer has come,” they say, “O joy of living on a summer's day!” White rose must die all in the youth and beauty of the year.
# The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter/Ireland

From The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter (1907).
IRELAND
'Twas the dream of a God, And the mould of His hand, That you shook 'neath His stroke, That you trembled and broke To this beautiful land.
Here He loosed from His hold A brown tumult of wings, Till the wind on the sea Bore the strange melody Of an Island that sings.
He made you all fair. You in purple and gold. You in silver and green, Till no eye that has seen Without love can behold.
I have left you behind In the path of the past, With the white breath of flowers With the best of God's hours, I have left you at last.
# The Black Jarl

* information about this edition.
* sister projects: Commons category, Wikidata item.
Extracted from the 3-part serial in Argosy magazine, New York, December 1, 8 & 15 1923; pp. 161-217 (Part I), 366-381 (Part II), 609-624 (Part III). A jarl was a medieval Scandinavian nobleman; a leader in the Danish and Norse invasions.
(Cover, Argosy Magazine, 1 January 1923)
The Black Jarl By Johnston McCulley Author of "The Mark of Zorro," "Hooked," etc.

### CONTENTS

(not included in listing)
* PART I (01 Dec. 1923)
* CHAP. I Svend the Bloody 161
* CHAP. II A Man comes Out of Gaul 164
* CHAP. III A Feast and a Combat 167
* CHAP. IV At Trondhjem 172
* PART II (08 Dec. 1923)
* CHAP. IVa At Trondhjem (contd) 366
* CHAP. V The Little Maid 367
* CHAP. VI Before the King 369
* CHAP. VII The Ax Thrower 371
* CHAP. VIII The Day—and the Night 374
* CHAP. IX Saved From Sacrifice 378
* PART III (15 Dec. 1923)
* CHAP. X The House of Harald 609
* CHAP. XI Witch's Brew 611
* CHAP. XII Masks Removed 614
* CHAP. XIII Roar of Battle 616
* CHAP. XIV The Sign of the Cross 620
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 1958, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 65 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/Over The Hills

OVER THE HILLS
Over the hills and the valleys of dreaming  Slowly I take my way. Life is the night with its dream-visions teeming,  Death is the waking at day.
Down thro' the dales and the bowers of loving,  Singing, I roam afar. Daytime or night-time, I constantly roving,—  Dearest one, thou art my star.
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
# The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/On the Death of W. C.

ON THE DEATH OF W. C.
Thou arrant robber, Death! Couldst thou not find Some lesser one than he To rob of breath,— Some poorer mind Thy prey to be?
His mind was like the sky,—  As pure and free; His heart was broad and open  As the sea. His soul shone purely through his face, And Love made him her dwelling place.
Not less the scholar than the friend,  Not less a friend than man; The manly life did shorter end  Because so broad it ran.
Weep not for him, unhappy Muse! His merits found a grander use Some other-where. God wisely sees The place that needs his qualities. Weep not for him, for when Death lowers O'er youth's ambrosia-scented bowers He only plucks the choicest flowers.
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
# The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/On the Road

ON THE ROAD
I 's boun' to see my gal to-night—  Oh, lone de way, my dearie! De moon ain't out, de stars ain't bright—  Oh, lone de way, my dearie! Dis hoss o' mine is pow'ful slow, But when I does git to yo' do' Yo' kiss 'll pay me back, an' mo',  Dough lone de way, my dearie.
De night is skeery-lak an' still—  Oh, lone de way, my dearie! 'Cept fu' dat mou'nful whippo'will—  Oh, lone de way, my dearie! De way so long wif dis slow pace, 'T 'u'd seem to me lak savin' grace Ef you was on a nearer place,  Fu' lone de way, my dearie.
I hyeah de hootin' of de owl—  Oh, lone de way, my dearie! I wish dat watch-dog would n't howl:—  Oh, lone de way, my dearie! An' evaht'ing, bofe right an' lef', Seem p'int'ly lak hit put itse'f In shape to skeer me half to def—  Oh, lone de way, my dearie!
I whistles so's I won't be feared—  Oh lone de way, my dearie! But anyhow I's kin' o' skeered,  Fu' lone de way, my dearie. De sky been lookin' mighty glum, But you kin mek hit lighten some, Ef you 'll jes' say you's glad I come,  Dough lone de way, my dearie.
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
# The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/One Life

ONE LIFE
Oh, I am hurt to death, my Love;  The shafts of Fate have pierced my striving heart, And I am sick and weary of  The endless pain and smart. My soul is weary of the strife, And chafes at life, and chafes at life.
Time mocks me with fair promises;  A blooming future grows a barren past, Like rain my fair full-blossomed trees  Unburden in the blast. The harvest fails on grain and tree, Nor comes to me, nor comes to me.
The stream that bears my hopes abreast  Turns ever from my way its pregnant tide. My laden boat, torn from its rest,  Drifts to the other side. So all my hopes are set astray, And drift away, and drift away.
The lark sings to me at the morn,  And near me wings her skyward-soaring flight; But pleasure dies as soon as born,  The owl takes up the night, And night seems long and doubly dark; I miss the lark, I miss the lark.
Let others labor as they may,  I'll sing and sigh alone, and write my line. Their fate is theirs, or grave or gay,  And mine shall still be mine. I know the world holds joy and glee, But not for me,—'t is not for me.
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
# The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/Opportunity

GRANNY'S gone a-visitin',  Seen huh git huh shawl W'en I was a-hidin' down  Hime de gyahden wall. Seen huh put her bonnet on,  Seen huh tie de strings, An' I'se gone to dreamin' now  'Bout dem cakes an' t'ings.
On de she'f behime de do'--  Mussy, wat a feas'! Soon ez she gits out o' sight,  I kin eat in peace. I bin watchin' fu' a week  Des fu' dis hyeah chance. Mussy, w'en I gits in daih,  I'll des sholy dance.
Lemon pie an' gingah-cake,  Let me set an' t'ink-- Vinegah an' sugah, too,  Dat'll mek a drink; Ef dey's one t'ing dat I loves  Mos' pu'ticlahly, It is eatin' sweet t'ings an'  A-drinkin' Sangaree.
Lawdy, won' po' granny raih  W'en she see de she'f; W'en I t'ink erbout huh face,  I's mos' 'shamed myse'f. Well, she gone, an 'hyeah I is,  Back behime de do'-- Look hyeah! Gran' 's done 'spected me,  Dain't no sweets no mo'.
Evah sweet is hid erway,  Job des done up brown; Pusson t'ink dat someun t'ought  Dey was t'eves erroun'; Dat des breaks my heart in two,  Oh how bad I feel! Des to t'ink my own gramma  B'lieved dat I 'u'd steal!
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
# The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/Passion and Love

PASSION AND LOVE
A maiden wept and, as a comforter, Came one who cried, "I love thee," and he seized Her in his arms and kissed her with hot breath, That dried the tears upon her flaming cheeks. While evermore his boldly blazing eye Burned into hers; but she uncomforted Shrank from his arms and only wept the more.
Then one came and gazed mutely in her face With wide and wistful eyes; but still aloof He held himself; as with a reverent fear, As one who knows some sacred presence nigh. And as she wept he mingled tear with tear, That cheered her soul like dew a dusty flower,— Until she smiled, approached, and touched his hand!
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