OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Bromsgrovian/Volume 2/Number 5/Musical Entertainment

A concert of classical music was given in the big schoolroom on Monday, May 14th, in the afternoon, the performers being Mr. Bradley (piano) and Mr. Crowder (violin). Mrs. Parsons and Mr. Crowder also sang songs. The music was of the highest order, and the greatest praise must be given to all the performers. It was perhaps the first time since Mr. Bradley's arrival amongst us that he has had an opportunity of being heard on an instrument worthy of him, and the result was such as to verify to the utmost the belief that had already been formed of his consummate powers and exquisite grace as a pianist; and even Mr. Crowder's high reputation as a violinist must have rested on a firmer basis than ever after his artistic interpretation of the music entrusted to him. Perhaps the most noticeable of the concerted pieces was the sonata for violin and piano, by J. S. Bach, which won well deserved applause for the accurate way in which it was rendered. Mr. Crowder and Mr. Bradley were also heard to full advantage in Niel Gade's beautiful sonata in D. minor, which was the last piece in a thoroughly well chosen programme. As regards the solos, Mr. Bradley's rendering of Schubert's sonata in B major was quite excellent, but we are inclined to think that his great skill as a pianist was even more fully displayed in Chopin's exquisite nocturne in G. major, which he played throughout with the delicacy and grace so absolutely necessary to a true interpretation of Chopin's music. Mr. Crowder's violin playing is already so well known amongst us, that it is not necessary to say more about his solos than that he played both Spohr's Barcarole in G major, and Molique's melody in A major, with his usual refinement and feeling. The success of the afternoon was reserved for Mrs. Parsons, whose charming singing has never been heard to greater advantage in Bromsgrove. Her first song, Gounod's "Le Nom de Marie," which was most sympathetically sung, received rapturous applause, but the encore which most deservedly greeted her rendering of Schubert's "Who is Silvia?" was too unmistakeable to be ignored. It is most satisfactory to see boys as well as their elders capable of appreciating really good ​singing. Mr. Crowder's fine voice and perfect vocalisation could scarcely have found better scope than in Handel's wonderful song, "Revenge! Timotheus cries." His singing of "To Anthea," was also thoroughly artistic, although this song is perhaps hardly so well suited to him as the other. We subjoin a programme:—
# The Bromsgrovian/Volume 2/Number 5/Notices to Correspondents

Notices to Correspondents.
The next issue will appear in about the beginning of July.
Back numbers of the "Bromsgrovian" may be had on applying to the Editor, K. E. S., Bromsgrove.
P. O. O's to be made payable to T. A. Rawlins, K. E. S., Bromsgrove.
Contributions to be written on one side of the paper only, to be sealed in an envelope, and posted in the Editor's Box, which has been placed in the Reading Room.
Contributors must send in their names in full, not for publication, but as a guarantee of authenticity.
Subscriptions must be prepaid. There are two numbers every term.
Contributors must be—Subscribers not necessarily—Present or Past Bromsgrovians. Special attention is drawn to this notice.
# The Bromsgrovian/Volume 2/Number 5/Prize Compositions for Midsummer, 1883

Greek Prose.—Letter of Arabi Pacha to the Times, about November, 1882.
Greek Iambics.—Swinburne's Erechtheus, line 373–402.
Latin Alcaics.—Poems by P. S. Worsley, pages 61 and 62, beginning "Never say that good is waning," ending "Dwells in thy own holy deed."
Latin Elegiacs.—"Snowdrops," by P. S. Worsley, page 113, 114.
Latin Prose.—Robertson's History of Charles V., vol. i., page 223–225, beginning, "The Turkish History is blended," ending "The latter formed to tremble and obey."
English Essay.—The Drama at Athens in the Vth Century, B.C.
# The Bromsgrovian/Volume 2/Number 5/School News

The New Monitors this term are R. H. Green, W. G. Mitchell, and F. W. Pyne.
H. L. Trotman and H. F. Pepys have received their First XI. Colours. The Eleven now consists of W. G. Mitchell (captain), T. A. Rawlins, A. Cochrane, H. L. Trotman, and H. F. Pepys.
We may congratulate ourselves on having obtained such a really good professional bowler as Deane. Not only does he bowl well, but he also shows fellows how to bat, a quality in which our professionals of former years were quite deficient.
The cricket fixtures for this season are as follows:—
The Head Master has kindly presented the Library with the following new books:—
* Tennyson's Works, complete, in One Volume.
* The English Poets, in Four Volumes.
* Scott's Poems, complete, in One Volume.
* Dr. Smith's Classical Dictionary.
* Frank Buckland's Natural History of British Fishes.
* A Grape from a Thorne.
* John Inglesant.
* The Arabian Nights.
* Verdant Green.
* Grimm's Fairy Tales.
* Christowell.
* Mary Annerley.
# The Bromsgrovian/Volume 3

* Number 1 (30 October 1883)
* Number 2 (17 December 1883)
* Number 3 (11 March 1884)
* Number 4 (8 April 1884)
* Number 5 (14 June 1884)
* Number 6 (23 October 1884)
# The Ascent of Man/Section 2

POEMS OF THE OPEN AIR.
page
"Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee,
Whether the summer clothe the general earth
With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing
Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch."
S. T. Coleridge.
# The Ascent of Man/Poem 7

NIRVANA.
Divest thyself, O Soul, of vain desire! Bid hope farewell, dismiss all coward fears; Take leave of empty laughter, emptier tears, And quench, for ever quench, the wasting fire Wherein this heart, as in a funeral pyre. Aye burns, yet is consumed not. Years on years Moaning with memories in thy maddened ears— Let at thy word, like refluent waves, retire.
Enter thy soul's vast realm as Sovereign Lord, And, like that angel with the flaming sword, Wave off life's clinging hands. Then chains will fall From the poor slave of self's hard tyranny— And Thou, a ripple rounded by the sea, In rapture lost be lapped within the All.
# The Ascent of Man/Section 1

THE ASCENT OF MAN.
# The Aspen Tree

* The Aspen Tree from the Literary Gazette, 21st August 1830.
* The Aspen Tree from The Vow of the Peacock and Other Poems, 1835.
# The Aspern Papers

One of Henry James' best-known and most acclaimed longer tales, "The Aspern Papers" is based on an anecdote that James heard about a Shelley devotee who tried to obtain some valuable letters written by the poet. Set in a brilliantly described Venice, "The Aspern Papers" demonstrates James' ability to generate almost unbearable suspense while never neglecting the masterful development of his characters
* "The Aspern Papers" in The Atlantic Monthly 61 (365–367) (March–May 1888):
** "The Aspern Papers" in The Atlantic Monthly 61 (365) (March 1888): 296–315.
** "The Aspern Papers" in The Atlantic Monthly 61 (366) (April 1888): 461–482.
** "The Aspern Papers" in The Atlantic Monthly 61 (367) (May 1888): 577–594.
    — First publication in any form.
* "The Aspern Papers" in The Aspern Papers, Louisa Pallant, The Modern Warning (2 volumes, London & New York: Macmillan & Co., 1888) 1: 1–239 .
    — First book edition, published in two volumes. This is nominally both the first English edition and the first American edition, but it was never issued in America.
* "The Aspern Papers" in The Aspern Papers, Louisa Pallant, The Modern Warning (1 volume, London & New York: Macmillan & Co., 1888): 1–137.
    — The American issue of the 2nd edition. Since the 1st edition was issued only in England, this is effectively the 1st American edition.
* "The Aspern Papers" in The Aspern Papers, Louisa Pallant, The Modern Warning (London & New York: Macmillan & Co., 1890): 1–137.
    — The English issue of the 2nd edition. Identical to the American issue except for the date 1890 date on the title page, and an imprint on the verso of the title-leaf, identifying it as a "New Edition". Also later issued in a Times Book Club remainder binding.
* "The Aspern Papers" in The Novels and Tales of Henry James 12: 1–143.
    — The "New York Edition"; revised for publication by James; this is the last revised version published in James' lifetime.
* The Aspern Papers (London: Martin Secker, 1915)
    — Part of the original English issue of the "The Uniform Tales of Henry James" series; uses the "New York Edition" text; authorized by James on the condition that the "New York Edition" text be followed exactly.
* The Aspern Papers (Boston: Le Roy Phillips, 1917)
    — Part of the first American issue of the "The Uniform Tales of Henry James" series; identical to the English issue except for a re-set title-leaf.
* "The Aspern Papers" in The Aspern Papers, The Turn of the Screw, The Liar, The Two Faces (London: Macmillan & Co., 1922): 3–126.
    — Volume 17 of The Novels and Stories of Henry James, the first posthumous collection of James' works; uses the "New York Edition" text.
* The Aspern Papers (New York: Albert & Charles Boni, 1924)
    — Number 8 of "The American Library" series; uses sheets from the "The Uniform Tales of Henry James" series, and is thus regarded as a second American issue of that volume. This issue is in the public domain due to non-renewal of copyright.
# The Ascent of Man/Poem 6

SAVING LOVE.
Would we but love what will not pass away! The sun that on each morning shines as clear As when it rose first on the world's first year; The fresh green leaves that rustle on the spray. The sun will shine, the leaves will be as gay When graves are full of all our hearts held dear, When not a soul of those who loved us here, Not one, is left us—creatures of decay.
Yea, love the Abiding in the Universe Which was before, and will be after us. Nor yet for ever hanker and vainly cry For human love—the beings that change or die; Die—change—forget: to care so is a curse, Yet cursed we'll be rather than not care thus.
# The Ascent of Man/Poem 8

MOTHERHOOD.
From out the font of being, undefiled, A life hath been upheaved with struggle and pain; Safe in her arms a mother holds again That dearest miracle—a new-born child. To moans of anguish terrible and wild— As shrieks the night-wind through an ill-shut pane— Pure heaven succeeds; and after fiery strain Victorious woman smiles serenely mild.
Yea, shall she not rejoice, shall not her frame Thrill with a mystic rapture! At this birth, The soul now kindled by her vital flame May it not prove a gift of priceless worth? Some saviour of his kind whose starry fame Shall bring a brightness to the darkened earth.
# The Ascent of Man/Section 3

LOVE IN EXILE.
page
"Whatever way my days decline,
I felt and feel, tho' left alone,
His being working in mine own,
The footsteps of his life in mine."
Lord Tennyson.
# The Canadian Soldiers' Song Book/The Trail That Leads to Home

Published 1917 with music by Herbert Mackenzie; companion song to "There's A Long, Long, Trail".
133—THE TRAIL THAT LEADS TO HOME
There's a train that calls me homeward, night and day; In my dreams the loved ones beckon, far away. Through the shadows and the sunshine, Someday I shall roam, Down that long, long trail a-winding, The trail that leads back to home.
# The Canadian Soldiers' Song Book/There's a Girl for Every Soldier

75—THERE'S A GIRL FOR EVERY SOLDIER
There's a girl for every soldier, There's a girl for ev'ry soldier boy. Oh! Tommy, the civvies envy you, They dont know how you find 'em, But you do, do, do! There's a girl for every soldier, It's the uniform that does it sure enough. For when-ever you meet a little bit of khaki, you're sure to find a little bit of fluff.
# The Canadian Soldiers' Song Book/There's a Little Lane Without a Turning

Published 1914, with music by George W. Meyer
136—THERE'S A LITTLE LANE WITHOUT A TURNING
There's a little lane without a turning On the way to home sweet home, There's a little mother always yearning For the ones that long to roam— There's a road that leads to strangers, That's where friendship parts; Another leads to dangers, And it's paved with broken hearts. Take a little lane without a turning On the way to home sweet home.
# The Canadian Soldiers' Song Book/The Star-Spangled Banner

6—THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER
Oh say, can you see by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming,
Whose stripes and bright stars thro' the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rocket's red glare, bombs bursting in air,
Gave us proof thro' the night that our flag was still there;
Oh say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave?
(Chorus: Repeat last two lines.)
On the shore dimly see thro' the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze o'er the towering steep
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In glory reflected now shines in the stream;
'Tis the star-spangled banner—O, long may it wave
O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.
(Chorus: Repeat last two lines.)
And where is that bard who so vauntingly swore
'Mid the havoc of war and the battle's confusion,
A home and a country they'd leave us no more?
Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' polution
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave;
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.
(Chorus: Repeat last two lines.)
Oh thus be it ever when freemen shall stand
Between their loved homes and the war's desolation.
Blest with vict'ry and peace may the heaven rescued land
Praise the power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto "In God is our trust!"
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.
(Chorus: Repeat last two lines.)
# The Canadian Soldiers' Song Book/There's a Light Shining Bright in a Window To-Night

Published 1918, with music by Pfeiffer.
137—THERE'S A LIGHT SHINING BRIGHT IN A WINDOW TO-NIGHT
There's a light shining bright in a window to-night In a home across the sea; There's a dear old mother thinks there is no other Little boy in the world like me. There's a grand old daddie, proud of his laddie Doing his bit across the foam. And I know they'll keep that light in the window bright Until the boys come home.
# The Canadian Soldiers' Song Book/The Song the Kettle is Singing

Published 1916 with music by Lawrence Wright
132—THE SONG THE KETTLE IS SINGING
We have sung your song of Tipperary, As we sat in the campfire's glow. We have marched along to that well-known song "Are we down-hearted—No." And now we're singing "Keep the Home Fires burning." But there's one song we miss o'er the foam, That's the song the kettle is singing on the hob In a dear little place called home.
# The Canadian Soldiers' Song Book/Then You'll Remember Me

From the 1843 opera The Bohemian Girl
85—THEN YOU'LL REMEMBER ME (The Bohemian Girl)
When other lips and other hearts, Their tales of love shall tell, In language whose excess imparts The pow'r they feel so well, There may perhaps in such a scene, Some recollection be, Of days that have as happy been And you'll remember me, And you'll remember, You'll remember me.
​When coldness or deceit shall slight, The beauty now they prize, And deem it but a faded light, Which beams within your eyes, When hollow hearts shall wear a mask, 'Twill break your own to see, In such a moment I but ask That you'll remember, That you'll remember, You'll remember me.
# The Canadian Soldiers' Song Book/Think of Me

From Yes, Uncle! (1916).
22—THINK OF ME (Yes, Uncle)
Think of me when the band is playing, And you hear them saying, "There they go," Think of me when the drums are beating, And you hear them greeting every boy they know. Think of me when you hear them sighing, And the flags are flying in the blue. Say you'll always think of me, 'Cos I'm always thinking of you.
# The Canadian Soldiers' Song Book/The Sunshine of Your Smile

64—THE SUNSHINE OF YOUR SMILE
Give me your smile, The love-light in your eyes Life could not hold a fairer Paradise! Give me the right To love you all the while. My world for ever, The sunshine of your smile!
# The Canadian Soldiers' Song Book/The Weddin' o' Sandy MacNab

110—THE WEDDIN' O' SANDY MACNAB
And the weddin' bells were ringin' all the boys were singin', "Here's tae you and yours, and me and mine!" Then we had a drappie, just tae make us happy, For the days o' Auld Lang Syne.
# The Ballad of Sir Bors

WOULD I could win some quiet and rest, and a little ease,
In the cool grey hush of the dusk, in the dim green place of the trees,
Where the birds are singing, singing, singing, crying aloud
The song of the red, red rose that blossoms beyond the seas.
  Would I could see it, the rose, when the light begins to fail,
And a lone white star in the West is glimmering on the mail;
The red, red passionate rose of the sacred blood of the Christ,
In the shining chalice of God, the cup of the Holy Grail.
  The dusk comes gathering grey, and the darkness dims the West,
The oxen low to the byre, and all bells ring to rest;
But I ride over the moors, for the dusk still bides and waits,
That brims my soul with the glow of the rose that ends the Quest.
  My horse is spavined and ribbed, and his bones come through his hide,
My sword is rotten with rust, but I shake the reins and ride,
For the bright white birds of God that nest in the rose have called, And never a township now is a town where I can bide.
  It will happen at last, at dusk, as my horse limps down the fell,
A star will glow like a note God strikes on a silver bell,
And the bright white birds of God will carry my soul to Christ,
And the sight of the Rose, the Rose, will pay for the years of hell
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
# The Ballad of St. Barbara

* "The Ballad of St. Barbara" in A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919 (1917)
* "The Ballad of St. Barbara" in The Ballad of St. Barbara and other verses (1922)
# The Ballad of St. Barbara and other verses

The Ballad of St. Barbara
AND OTHER VERSES
BY
GILBERT KEITH CHESTERTON
LONDON
CECIL PALMER
OAKLEY HOUSE BLOOMSBURY STREET W.C.1.
FIRST EDITION 1922 COPY- RIGHT
​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 1936, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 87 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 Ballad of Roddy McCorley

* related portals: Ireland.
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, Wikidata item.
Irish ballad about United Irishman and outlaw Roddy McCorley, written for the 100th anniversary of the United Irishmen rebellion in Ireland
1. Oh, see the fleet-foot hosts of men who speed with faces wan, From farmstead and from thresher's cot along the banks of Bann. They come with vengeance in their eyes; too late, too late are they, For young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.
2. Oh Ireland, Mother Ireland, you love them still the best, The fearless brave who fighting fall upon your hapless breast. But never a one of all your dead more bravely fell in fray, Than he who marches to his fate on the bridge of Toome today.
3. Up the narrow street he stepped, so smiling, proud and young, About the hemp-rope on his neck, the golden ringlets clung; There's ne'er a tear in his blue eyes, fearless and brave are they, As young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.
4. When last this narrow street he trod, his shining pike in hand, Behind him marched, in grim array, an earnest stalwart band. To Antrim town! To Antrim town, he led them to the fray, But young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.
5. The grey coat and its sash of green were brave and stainless then, A banner flashed beneath the sun over the marching men; The coat hath many a rent this noon, the sash is torn away, And Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.
6. Oh, how his pike flashed in the sun! Then found a foeman's heart,
Through furious fight, and heavy odds he bore a true man's part. And many a red-coat bit the dust before his keen pike-play, But Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.
7. There's never a one of all your dead more bravely died in fray Than he who marches to his fate in Toomebridge town today; True to the last! True to the last, he treads the upwards way, And young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.
# The Book of Scottish Song/The Highland Seer

The Highland Seer.
[Peter M'Arthur.—Here printed for the first time.]
Ye dark rolling clouds, round the brow of Ben Borrow, O weep your dark tears to the green vales below; Ye winds of the hill, wake your wailings of sorrow, No beams of the morning can gladness bestow! Arise, ye grey mists, from the loud falling Corrie, And shroud from our children the sad sight of wail; The warriors that left them high bounding for glory Shall never return to the land of the Gael.
Our maidens have twined the wild mountain flowers. To crown their young lovers they wait their return; Alas, for their fondness! they know not of hours When tidings of sorrow shall bid them to mourn. I heard the dread howl of the wolf from the mountain, I saw the dark death-bird flit over the plain, I saw a red stream, and a blood-curdled fountain, And the war-horse dash over the breasts of the slain.
The Saxon has swept o'er the plains of Culloden, Our heroes have fallen, or wander'd afar 'Mong dark mountain caves, where the blue mist is shrouding— No minstrel awaits their returning from war. By yon gloomy pine, on the grey brow of Morra, A young prince is wand'ring dejected and lone, From his deep-troubled breast come the sad sighs of sorrow For chieftains departed, and young virgins gone.
He turns his sad eyes to the land of his fathers, Where the banners of welcome once waved on her towers: Those honours departed are given to others, The tears of regret wander down for those hours. I see a white sail through the dim mist of ocean, It comes like the beam on the dawning of day; Albyn—awake thee to mournful devotion, It bears him an exile for ever away.