OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Leggett's Monument

William Leggett, who died in 1839 at the age of thirty-seven, was the intrepid editor of the New York Evening Post and afterward of the short-lived (New York) Plaindealer. His vigorous assault upon the system of slavery brought down upon him the enmity of political defenders of the system.
"Ye build the tombs of the prophets."--Holy Writ.
Yes, pile the marble o'er him! It is well That ye who mocked him in his long stern strife, And planted in the pathway of his life The ploughshares of your hatred hot from hell, Who clamored down the bold reformer when He pleaded for his captive fellow-men, Who spurned him in the market-place, and sought Within thy walls, St. Tammany, to bind In party chains the free and honest thought, The angel utterance of an upright mind, Well is it now that o'er his grave ye raise The stony tribute of your tardy praise, For not alone that pile shall tell to Fame Of the brave heart beneath, but of the builders' shame!
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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# Leaves of Grass (1882)/Sea-Drift/On the Beach at Night Alone

ON THE BEACH AT NIGHT ALONE.
On the beach at night alone, As the old mother sways her to and fro singing her husky song, As I watch the bright stars shining, I think a thought of the clef of the universes and of the future.
A vast similitude interlocks all, All spheres, grown, ungrown, small, large, suns, moons, planets, All distances of place however wide, All distances of time, all inanimate forms, All souls, all living bodies though they be ever so different, or in different worlds, All gaseous, watery, vegetable, mineral processes, the fishes, the brutes, All nations, colors, barbarisms, civilizations, languages, All identities that have existed or may exist on this globe, or any globe, All lives and deaths, all of the past, present, future, This vast similitude spans them, and always has spann'd, And shall forever span them and compactly hold and enclose them.
# Leaves of Grass (1882)/Sea-Drift/Tears

TEARS.
Tears! tears! tears! In the night, in solitude, tears, On the white shore dripping, dripping, suck'd in by the sand, Tears, not a star shining, all dark and desolate, Moist tears from the eyes of a muffled head; O who is that ghost? that form in the dark, with tears? What shapeless lump is that, bent, crouch'd there on the sand? Streaming tears, sobbing tears, throes, choked with wild cries; O storm, embodied, rising, careering with swift steps along the beach! O wild and dismal night storm, with wind—O belching and desperate! O shade so sedate and decorous by day, with calm countenance and regulated pace, But away at night as you fly, none looking—O then the unloosened ocean, Of tears! tears! tears!
# Leaves of Grass (1882)/Sea-Drift/Patroling Barnegat

PATROLING BARNEGAT.
Wild, wild the storm, and the sea high running, Steady the roar of the gale, with incessant undertone muttering, Shouts of demoniac laughter fitfully piercing and pealing, Waves, air, midnight, their savagest trinity lashing, Out in the shadows there milk-white combs careering, On beachy slush and sand spirts of snow fierce slanting, Where through the murk the easterly death-wind breasting, Through cutting swirl and spray watchful and firm advancing, (That in the distance! is that a wreck? is the red signal flaring?) ​Slush and sand of the beach tireless till daylight wending, Steadily, slowly, through hoarse roar never remitting, Along the midnight edge by those milk-white combs careering, A group of dim, weird forms, struggling, the night confronting, That savage trinity warily watching.
# Leaves of Grass (1882)/Sea-Drift/The World Below the Brine

THE WORLD BELOW THE BRINE.
The world below the brine, Forests at the bottom of the sea, the branches and leaves, Sea-lettuce, vast lichens, strange flowers and seeds, the thick tangle, openings, and pink turf, ​Different colors, pale gray and green, purple, white, and gold, the play of light through the water, Dumb swimmers there among the rocks, coral, gluten, grass, rushes, and the aliment of the swimmers, Sluggish existences grazing there suspended, or slowly crawling close to the bottom, The sperm-whale at the surface blowing air and spray, or disporting with his flukes, The leaden-eyed shark, the walrus, the turtle, the hairy sea-leopard, and the sting-ray, Passions there, wars, pursuits, tribes, sight in those ocean-depths, breathing that thick-breathing air, as so many do, The change thence to the sight here, and to the subtle air breathed by beings like us who walk this sphere, The change onward from ours to that of beings who walk other spheres.
# Leaves of Grass (1882)/Sea-Drift/Song for All Seas, All Ships

SONG FOR ALL SEAS, ALL SHIPS.
1
Of ships sailing the seas, each with its special flag or ship-signal, ​Of unnamed heroes in the ships—of waves spreading and spreading far as the eye can reach, Of dashing spray, and the winds piping and blowing, And out of these a chant for the sailors of all nations, Fitful, like a surge.
Of sea-captains young or old, and the mates, and of all intrepid sailors, Of the few, very choice, taciturn, whom fate can never surprise nor death dismay, Pick'd sparingly without noise by thee old ocean, chosen by thee, Thou sea that pickest and cullest the race in time, and unitest nations, Suckled by thee, old husky nurse, embodying thee, Indomitable, untamed as thee.
(Ever the heroes on water or on land, by ones or twos appearing, Ever the stock preserv'd and never lost, though rare, enough for seed preserv'd.)
2
Flaunt out O sea your separate flags of nations! Flaunt out visible as ever the various ship-signals! But do you reserve especially for yourself and for the soul of man one flag above all the rest, A spiritual woven signal for all nations, emblem of man elate above death, Token of all brave captains and all intrepid sailors and mates, And all that went down doing their duty, Reminiscent of them, twined from all intrepid captains young or old, A pennant universal, subtly waving all time, o'er all brave sailors, All seas, all ships.
# Leaves of Grass (1882)/Sea-Drift/To the Man-of-War-Bird

TO THE MAN-OF-WAR-BIRD.
Thou who hast slept all night upon the storm, Waking renewed on thy prodigious pinions, (Burst the wild storm? above it thou ascended'st, And rested on the sky, thy slave that cradled thee,) Now a blue point, far, far in heaven floating, As to the light emerging here on deck I watch thee, (Myself a speck, a point on the world's floating vast.)
​Far, far at sea, After the night's fierce drifts have strewn the shore with wrecks, With re-appearing day as now so happy and serene, The rosy and elastic dawn, the flashing sun, The limpid spread of air cerulean, Thou also re-appearest.
Thou born to match the gale, (thou art all wings,) To cope with heaven and earth and sea and hurricane, Thou ship of air that never furl'st thy sails, Days, even weeks untired and onward, through spaces, realms gyrating, At dusk that look'st on Senegal, at morn America, That sport'st amid the lightning-flash and thunder-cloud, In them, in thy experiences, had'st thou my soul, What joys! what joys were thine!
# Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1833/Hindoo Temples at Benares

These are presumably the recently built (1830) temples on the Scindia Ghat.
34
* HINDOO TEMPLE, - BENARES.
* Artist: T. Boys - Engraved by: J. Thomas
HINDOO TEMPLES AT BENARES
And day by day, and hour by hour,  The sacred stream floats past, And rises higher o’er the shrines,  Doomed to its depths at last.
And soon above those stately domes  The fatal tide will flow, And carved spire and sculptured tower  Sleep in the depths below
The temples have no worshippers,  The altar be unknown, And weed and ooze in darkness rest  Upon the polished stone.
Oh, likeness of humanity,  ’Tis thus that life flows on, Till every fabric which we built  In early youth is gone.
The sacred and the beautiful,  The mighty and sublime; Alas, in vain, the heart would save  One single wreck from time.
The Temples to which the above lines allude, are already half immersed in water; a few more years, and the stream which was once their mirror, will be their shroud.
It is curious to observe how general is the tradition of man’s deterioration: the Bramins say, that the Ganges first rose at Benares—a more sinful generation saw it recede to Hurdwar—a third had to follow it to Burahat—and the fourth age finds it still further off, as it has now its source amid the heights of Gungoutri.
# Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1833/Macao

66
* MACAO, CHINA.
* Artist: W. Harwood - Engraved by: W. Floyd
MACAO.
Good Heaven! whatever shall I do? I must write something for my readers: What has become of my ideas? Now, out upon them for seceders!  Of all the places in the world, To fix upon a port in China; Celestial empire, how I wish I had been christened Celestina!  The wish however's served for rhyme, But here again invention falters: Had it but been a town in Greece; I might have raved about its altars,  And talked of liberty and mass, Of tyrants and Romaic dances, Of Athens with a German king, And fifty thousand other chances:  Or had it only been in Spain; A few night-stars the midnight gemming, And a guitar, I might have scribbled The rest from Contarini Flemming:  Or Italy, the land of song; Of myrtle, pictures, and of passion— Ah! that was for mine earlier lute, I write now in another fashion:  Or France, which, like an invalid, Goes patching up a constitution; Those three most glorious days in June, Might have lain under contribution:  Or had it only been Madeira; I might have made a charming fiction, Of some young maiden crossed in love, And dying of the contradiction.  I’m like a sailor sent to sea, Sent with "no, nothing" for his sea-hoard; What on earth can I find to say, Of a pagoda, or a tea-board?  No love, no murder, no description, Their only "old association" Is with the willow-pattern plates, That on the dresser have their station.  I give it up in pure despair; But well the muse may turn refractory, When all her inspiration is— A Chinese Town, and an English Factory.
# Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1833/Hall i' th' Wood

64
* HALL I' THE WOOD, NEAR BOLTON.
* Artist: William Linton - Engraved by: Thomas Higham
HALL I' TH' WOOD.
HANGE, change, wondrous change, Mighty is thy power, and strange; Summer sleeps beneath the snow, Fading follows autumn’s glow: Time, what has its chronicle, But of thee and thine to tell?  What can yonder house record? First it had the feudal Lord, He whose banner swept the land, Which he held with red right hand; He of ’scutcheon, shield, and plume, Rule of iron, will of doom.  Next there came the Cavalier, Light of word, and gay of cheer;
He who held the right divine, Floated best in good red wine: Reckless reveller died he, In his exile o’er the sea.  Followed him, the Squire who found, Chief delight in horse and hound: Merry then was Christmas time, Kept with carol, masque, and mime; Glad the red hearth lit the hall, There was welcome then for all.  Last there was the Man of skill, Wind and wave were at his will: Thought and industry combined, One whose hand was taught by mind; Toil and science, unto those, Vast the debt that England owes.  Such the change yon House hath seen, Surely best the last hath been: Such the blessings brought by peace, Patient toil and its increase. Better far than broil and brand, Art and labour in the land.
"Considerable obscurity invests the ancient history of this antiquated edifice: of several dates existing upon various parts of the building, the earliest is 1591."—"In 1770, part of this old mansion was inhabited by Mr. Samuel Crompton, an inhabitant of the parish of Bolton; and it was here that he invented and constructed a machine, which, from its combining the principles of the spinning-jenny and the water-frame, was named a mule." The progressive improvement in the manufacture of muslins and cambrics, that resulted from Mr. Crompton's scientific labours, occasioned the latter to be brought under the consideration of parliament, when a grant of £5000 was awarded to the inventor.—Fisher's Illustrations of Lancashire.
It is, therefore, no poetical fiction, to suppose that this house has had occupiers who would represent the various social changes in England.
# Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1833/Langdale Pikes

42
* LANGDALE PIKES, WESTMORLAND.
* Artist: T. Allom - Engraved by: T. Jeavons
LANGDALE PIKES.
And through that valley winds a little stream like a pleasant thought, ’mid the gray rocks, and the purple heath; its banks are the only green things, as if the spring loved them for the sake of seeing her face mirrored in the clear stream. Some alders grow beside, and a profusion of wild flowers; also there is good sport for the angler.
ISE up, rise up, the cheerful sun Has his golden race begun; Though low from your cottage eaves, Hang the thick vine’s clustering leaves, Many a sunbeam has found way, Shining messengers of day: What can be the dream, whose power Keeps you at so late an hour?
All the trouble has been mine, Ready is your rod and line,
All prepared the rainbow flies, Tyre ne’er knew such radiant dies As the purple and the gold, Which their filmy wings unfold: Fairer baits were never cast— Ho! you sluggard, up at last?
What a silvery mist around, Rises from the dewy ground! Hot will be the noontide hours, May it soon come down in showers: But for shower or for shine, I know of a woodland shrine, Moss and leaves;—the fairy queen ’Mid its blossoms must have been.
Glittering in the morning beam, Crystal runs our little stream, See the flag-flowers bright and blue, Tinge the small waves with their hue; Azure, like a maiden's eye, Surely there the trout will lie: Shadowy hangs the alder bough Hush! we must be silent now.
# Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1833/Futtypore Sicri

see Fatehpur Sikri
81
* FUTTIPORE SICRI.
* Artist: W. Purser - Engraved by: W. Brandard
FUTTYPORE SICRI.
THE FAVOURITE RESIDENCE OF THE EMPEROR ACKBAR.
HE summer palace of the king, Whose lightest word was enough to bring Every gem and every flower, To light his hall—and to wreath his bower. Can you not fancy the summer-time, Such as it is in a southern clime? Can you not fancy the glorious home, To which the conq’ring monarch would come, When the sabre was sheath’d, and the struggle was done, And the red banner waved for the victory won, And the rudest of sights or of sounds on the gale, Was the fall of a footstep—the wave of a veil?
I cannot; I think of the victor’s red hand, Which swept its own kindred in blood from the land, Which sundered the ties that in youth are entwined, When the heart is most warm, and the temper most kind. The grave has its vengeance—the dead have their power In the terrible silence of midnight’s dark hour, When each shade is a spectre—and winds have a tone, To the ear of the innocent sleeper unknown; When the visions ascend from the depths of the tomb, And strange shadows flit thro’ the spectral room. Spread ye the purple, and pour ye the wine, Let the incense arise till the room be a shrine; Wreathe the bright tresses—let sweet voices sing, They chase not the past from thy spirit, O king; From the dead and their shadows thou never may’st flee, And the blood thou hast shed is for ever with thee.
# Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1833/Glengariffe

see Glengariff
52
* GLENGARIFFE, CO. CORK, IRELAND.
* Artist: W. H. Bartlett - Engraved by: J. C. Varrall
GLENGARIFFE.
H lovely Picture, thou art one to haunt The mind in feverish moods of discontent, When noise and multitudes afflict the heart With bitter sense of personal nothingness. How beautiful the summer solitude Of that lone water, which the mountain heights Girdle as if from love! How sweet it were To spend an August day in that small wood, And listen to the sea! A glorious noon, The earth, the heaven, the year, all in their prime, When not a leaf has fallen from the trees,
And the rich green is deepest: scarce the sun, Though shining as he shines on harvest’s month, Can penetrate the shadowy boughs, and give Colour to small bright myriads of wild flowers, That fill the grass. And when a shower falls Amid the upper boughs, like music playing, You hear, but feel it not. The sunny spots Are where some tree, or time or thunder stricken, Clad in gray moss, not foliage, leaves a place Filled by the sunshine. Strange to think that death Thus lets in light and life. Thou lovely bay, I dream of beauty which I have not seen, And yet I know: thanks to the art divine Which haunts the eye with summer; fills the mind With natural love, and sweet and gentle thoughts, Morning, and flowers; green grass, and aged trees— All that can soothe, and calm, and purify, E’en ’mid a busy wilderness of streets.
# Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1833/Lancaster

44
* LANCASTER.
* Artist: J. Henderson - Engraved by: W. Finden
LANCASTER.
H, pleasant on a winter night, To see the fagot blaze, While o’er white wall and sanded floor, The cheerful firelight plays.
Rebecca sat beside the hearth, The wheel was at her knee, Round, round it went with ceaseless hum, And cheerfully worked she.
For company she had old songs, The simple and the true; And as she sang, she felt her heart Its gladsome youth renew.
At first she sang unceasingly, And with a cheerful tone, Then paused, to ask the cuckoo clock, How much of night had flown.
The notes grew sorrowful, then ceased, She let her wheel stand still, And forth she looked, the quiet moon Was bright above the hill.
She blessed the blue and tranquil sky, And closed the cottage door; Again her wheel turned busily, Her song arose once more.
But broken now by start and pause, And oft her wandering eye, Turned to the clock, and anxiously Watched each long hour pass by.
My mother she is late to-night, God keep her on her way; Again Rebecca turned to watch The moors that round them lay.
But now the moon had hid her light Behind a heavy cloud, Which o'er the azure face of heaven Had darkened like a shroud.
The wind was howling, as it howls O'er some sea-beaten strand: So utter was the darkness round, You could not see your hand.
The rain upon the casement beat, And yet she flung it wide; And with dry brushwood, and with furze, The blazing hearth supplied.
She knew their cottage was for miles Seen shining thro’ the night— "God grant," she said with faltering voice, "My mother sees the light."
She could not bear her agony, For she could hear afar The tumult of the rising flood, With the wild wind at war.
With desperate steps she hurried forth; The lantern’s feeble ray, And the strong purpose of her heart Sufficed her dangerous way.
How past with her that anxious night To God is only known, For reason in that fearful search Was utterly o’erthrown.
At morning light the ebbing flood Had yielded up its prey, And there, by some strange impulse led, Rebecca bent her way.
They found her with her mother’s head Raised childlike on her arm, And carefully her cloak was wrapt To keep the dead one warm.
The cottage now is desolate Upon that lonely moor; No firelight through the lattice gleams, No rose climbs up the door.
By day and night Rebecca's steps Upon the wild moors roam; Still bears the wind one piteous cry— "Oh, mother dear, come home!"
In the neighbourhood of Lancaster, are the dangerous sands alluded to in the above poem. They are fordable at low water; but darkness, fogs, or unexpected tides, have led to many melancholy accidents. Vide "Views and Illustrations in Lancashire."
# Lessee of Jewell v. Jewell

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United States Supreme Court
42 U.S. 219
Lessee of Jewell v. Jewell

## 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
# Lessee of Frost v. Frostburg Coal Company

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* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
65 U.S. 278
Lessee of Frost v. Frostburg Coal Company
THIS case was brought up by writ of error from the Circuit Court of the United States for the district of Maryland.
The facts of the case are stated in the opinion of the court.
It was argued by Mr. Davis and Mr. Shackelford for the plaintiffs in error, and by Mr. Price and Mr. Pearre for the defendants.
The question being on the construction of a local charter, the arguments are not likely to be of general interest, and are therefore omitted.
Mr. Justice NELSON 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).
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# Lessee of Hickey v. Stewart

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* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
44 U.S. 750
Lessee of Hickey v. Stewart

## 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
# Kansas

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Kansas."
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This is a disambiguation page. It lists works that share the same title. If an article link referred you here, please consider editing it to point directly to the intended page.
* Kansas: A Cyclopedia of State History (1912), edited by Frank Wilson Blackmar
* "Kansas," in Collier's New Encyclopedia, New York: P. F. Collier & Son Co. (1921)
* "Kansas," in Catholic Encyclopedia, (ed.) by Charles G. Herbermann and others, New York: The Encyclopaedia Press (1913)
* "Kansas," in Encyclopædia Britannica, Ninth Edition (1875–1889)
* "Kansas," in Encyclopædia Britannica (11th ed., 1911)
* "Kansas," in Encyclopædia Britannica (12th ed., 1922)
* "Kansas," in The New Student's Reference Work, Chicago: F.E. Compton and Co. (1914)
* "Kansas (tribe)," in The American Cyclopædia (1879)

## See also

* Kansas City
# Kanouse v. Martin (55 U.S. 23)

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
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United States Supreme Court
55 U.S. 23
Kanouse v. Martin
A MOTION was made by Mr. Martin, to dismiss this case, which was argued by himself and Mr. Garr.
The circumstances, upon which the motion was based, are stated in the opinion of the court.
Mr. Chief Justice TANEY 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).
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# Kanouse v. Martin (56 U.S. 198)

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United States Supreme Court
56 U.S. 198
Kanouse v. Martin

## 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).
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# Kansas: A Cyclopedia of State History/Abbyville

​Abbyville, a village of Reno county, is situated in Westminister township, 17 miles southwest of Hutchinson, the county seat. The former name was Nonpariel. It is a station on the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe R. R., has a bank, a money order postoffice with two rural routes, express, telegraph and telephone facilities, churches of the leading Protestant denominations, some mercantile and shipping interests, and in 1910 reported a population of 300.
# Kanouse v. Martin

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Kanouse v. Martin."
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
This is a disambiguation page. It lists works that share the same title. If an article link referred you here, please consider editing it to point directly to the intended page.
* Kanouse v. Martin (55 U.S. 23)
* Kanouse v. Martin (56 U.S. 198)