OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 7 1823/The Shade of Theseus

The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 7, Page 496
GREEK SONG.
THE SHADE OF THESEUS.
Know ye not when our dead
 From sleep to battle sprung?
When the Persian charger's tread
 On their covering greensward rung*.
When banners caught the breeze,
 When helms in sunlight shone,
When masts were on the seas,
 And spears on Marathon.
There was one, a leader crown'd,
 And arm'd for Greece that day;
But the falchions made no sound
 On his gleaming war-array.
In the battle's front he stood,
 With his tall and shadowy crest,
But the arrows drew no blood,
 Though their path was through his breast.
When banners caught the breeze,
 When helms in sunlight shone,
When masts were on the seas,
 And spears on Marathon.
His sword was seen to flash
 Where the boldest deeds were done,
But it smote without a clash,
 The stroke was heard by none!
His voice was not of those
 That swell'd the rolling blast,
And his steps fell hush'd like snows—
 'Twas the shade of Theseus pass'd!
When banners caught the breeze,
 When helms in sunlight shone, When masts were on the seas,  And spears on Marathon.
Far-sweeping through the foe,
 With a fiery charge he bore,
And the Mede left many a bow
 On the sounding ocean-shore.
And the dashing waves grew red,
 And the sails were crowded fast,
When the sons of Asia fled,
 As the shade of Theseus pass'd!
When banners caught the breeze,
 When helms in sunlight shone,
When masts were on the seas,
 And spears on Marathon.
# Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 8 1823/Ancient Song of a Greek Exile

The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 8, Page 246
ANCIENT SONG OF A GREEK EXILE.
Where is the Summer, with her golden sun?
—That festal glory hath not pass'd from earth!
For me alone the laughing day is done;
—Where is the Summer, with her voice of mirth?
—Far in my own bright land!
Where are the Fauns, whose flute-notes breathe and die
On the green hills? the founts, from sparry caves,
Through the wild places bearing melody?
The soft reeds whispering o'er the river-waves?
—Far in my own bright land!
Where are the temples, through the dim wood shining,
The virgin-dances, and the choral strains?
Where the sweet sisters of my youth, entwining
The fresh rose-garlands for their sylvan fanes?
—Far in my own bright land!
Where are the vineyards, with their joyous throngs,
The red grapes pressing when the foliage fades?
The lyres, the wreaths, the lovely Dorian songs,
And the pine-forests, and the olive-shades?
—Far in my own bright land!
Where are the haunted grots, the laurel-bowers,
The Dryad's footsteps, and the minstrel's dreams?
—Oh! that my life were as a southern flower's!
I might not languish then by these chill streams,
—Far from my own bright land!H.
# Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 8 1823/The Lost Pleiad

The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 8, Page 526
THE LOST PLEIAD.
"Like the lost Pleiad seen no more below."—Lord Byron.
And is there glory from the Heavens departed?  —Oh, void unmark'd!—thy sisters of the sky
Still hold their place on high,
Though from its rank thine orb so long hath started,
 Thou! that no more art seen of mortal eye
Hath the Night lost a gem, the regal Night?
 —She wears her crown of old magnificence,
Though thou art exiled thence!
No desert seems to part those urns of light,
 Midst the far depths of purple gloom intense.
They rise in joy, the starry myriads burning!
 The Shepherd greets them on his mountains free,
And from the silvery sea
To them the Sailor's wakeful eye is turning;
 —Unchanged they rise, they have not mourn'd for thee!
Couldst thou be shaken from thy radiant place,
 Ev'n as a dew-drop from the myrtle-spray,
Swept by the wind away?
Wert thou not peopled by some glorious race,
 And was there power to smite them with decay?
Why, who shall talk of Thrones, of Sceptres riven?
 —It is too sad to think on what we are,
When from its height afar,
A world sinks thus! and yon majestic Heaven
 Shines not the less for that one vanish'd star!F. H.
# Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 7 1823/The Voice of Scio

The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 7, Page 352
GREEK SONG.—THE VOICE OF SCIO.
A voice from Scio's Isle,
A voice of song, a voice of old,
Swept far as cloud or billow rolled,
 And earth was hushed the while.
 The souls of nations woke!
Where lies the land whose hills among
That voice of victory hath not rung,
 As if a trumpet spoke?
 To sky, and sea, and shore,
Of those whose blood, on Ilion's plain,
Flowed from the rivers to the main,
 A glorious tale it bore!
 Still by our sun-bright deep,
With all the fame that fiery lay
Threw round them in its rushing way,
 The sons of battle sleep.
 And kings their turf have crown'd!
And pilgrims o'er the foaming wave
Brought garlands there; so rest the brave,
 Who thus their bard have found!
 A voice from Scio's Isle,
A voice as deep hath risen again!
As far shall peal its thrilling strain,
 Where'er our sun may smile!
 Let not its tones expire!
Such power to waken earth and heaven,
And might and vengeance, ne'er was given
 To mortal song or lyre.
 Know ye not whence it comes?
—From ruined hearths, from burning fanes,
From kindred blood on yon red plains,
 From desolated homes!
 'Tis with us through the night!
'Tis on our hills, 'tis in our sky—
—Hear it, thou Heaven! when swords flash nigh,
 O'er the mid waves of fight.
# Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 8 1823/The Moorish Bridal Song

The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 8, Page 224
(224)
THE MOORISH BRIDAL SONG.*
The Citron groves their fruit and flowers were strewing
Around a Moorish palace, and the sigh
Of summer's gentlest wind, the branches wooing,
With music through their twilight-bowers went by;
Music and voices from the marble halls,
Through the leaves gleaming, midst the fountain-falls.
A song of joy, a bridal song came swelling
To blend with fragrance in those southern shades,
And told of feasts within the stately dwelling,
And lights, and dancing steps, and gem-crown'd maids;
And thus it flow'd;—yet something in the lay
Belong'd to sadness as it died away.
"The Bride comes forth! her tears no more are falling
To leave the chamber of her infant years,
Kind voices from another home are calling,
She comes like day-spring—she hath done with tears!
Now must her dark eye shine on other flowers,
Her bright smile gladden other hearts than ours! —Pour the rich odours round!
"We haste! the chosen and the lovely bringing,
Love still goes with her from her place of birth,
Deep silent joy within her heart is springing,
For this alone her glance hath less of mirth!
Her beauty leaves us in its rosy years,
Her sisters weep—but she hath done with tears!
Now may the timbrel sound!"
Know'st thou for whom they sang the bridal numbers?
—One, whose rich tresses were to wave no more!
One whose pale cheek soft winds, nor gentle slumbers,
Nor Love's own sigh to rose-tints might restore!
Her graceful ringlets o'er a bier were spread—
—Weep for the young, the beautiful, the dead!F. H.
# Evers v. Dwyer

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
358 U.S. 202
Evers v. Dwyer
Argued: Dec. 15, 1958. ---
Messrs. Robert L. Carter, New York, H. T. Lockhard, Memphis, Tenn., for appellants.
Messrs. Frank B. Gianotti, Jr., City Atty., Walter Chandler, Memphis, Tenn., Allison B. Humphreys, Nashville, Tenn., Edward P. Russell, Charles M. Crump, Memphis, Tenn., for appellees.
PER CURIAM.

## 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
# Everhardt v. City of New Orleans/Opinion of the Court

* Court Documents
* Case Syllabus
* Per Curiam Opinion of the Court
United States Supreme Court
395 U.S. 212
William EVERHARDT et al. v. CITY OF NEW ORLEANS et al.
The motion to dismiss is granted and the appeal is dismissed for want of jurisdiction. Treating the papers whereon the appeal was taken as a petition for a writ of certiorari, certiorari is denied.

## 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
# Everhart v. Huntsville Female College Clay/Opinion of the Court

* Court Documents
* Case Syllabus
* Opinion of the Court
United States Supreme Court
120 U.S. 223
Everhart v. Huntsville Female College Clay
These are appeals from a decree dismissing the original bill and a cross-bill in a suit begun in the circuit court of the United States for the Northern district of Alabama, by george M. Everhart against the Huntsville Female Academy, George W. F. Price, Martha T. Rison, Myra J. Erwin, Robert M. Erwin, William H. Erwin, Joseph B. Erwin, and Marcus A. Erwin, and in which Hugh L. Clay, as administrator de bonis non of Abraham R. Erwin, deceased, was afterwards added as a defendant; but, on looking into the record, we find no sufficient evidence of the jurisdiction of the circuit court, which depends alone on the citizenship of the parties. It is stated in the original bill that Everhart is a resident of Wisconsin, and the same fact is also shown by the testimony; but this, as it has often been held, is not enough. An averment of residence is not the equivalent of an averment of citizenship for the purposes of jurisdiction in the courts of the United States. Accordig to the pleadings, the Huntsville Female Academy is an Alabama corporation, and the other defendants are residents of either Alabama or Tennessee. The decree dismissing both the original and cross-bills is reversed, because the record fails to show the jurisdiction of the circuit court; but, as the fault rests alone on Everhart, the complainant in the original bill, whose duty it was to put on record the facts necessary to show the jurisdiction, the reversal will be at his costs in this court. This whole subject has already been considered twice during the present term,-once in Continental Ins. Co. v. Rhoads, 119 U.S. 237, ante, 193; and again in Peper v. Fordyce, 119 U.S. 469, ante, 287. The reasons for our judgment sufficiently appear in the opinions delivered in those cases. If, on the return of the case to the circuit court, it is made to appear that the citizenship necessary for the jurisdiction existed at the time the suit was brought, it will be for that court to determine whether an amendment of the pleadings ought to be allowed, so as to cure the present defects.
The decree of the circuit court is reversed, at the costs of the appellant Everhart, and the cause remanded for further proceedings not inconsistent with this opinion.

## 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
# Everlasting love of God, and Mary's good choice

THE
EVERLASTING LOVE OF GOD,
AND
MARY'S GOOD CHOICE:
BEING THE SUBSTANCE OF
TWO
SERMONS,
ON
John iii. 16, 17. & Luke x. 42.
Preached by the Late Rev. Mr. JOHN WELCH, Sometime Minister of the Gospel at Ayr.
FALKIRK: PRINTED BY T. JOHNSTON. 1816.
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
# Everhardt v. City of New Orleans

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
395 U.S. 212
William EVERHARDT et al. v. CITY OF NEW ORLEANS et al.
William F. Wessel, for appellants.
Alvin J. Liska, for appellees.
John A. Eckler, for the American Motorcycle Ass'n, as amicus curiae.
PER CURIAM.

## 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
# Everhart v. Huntsville Female College Clay

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
120 U.S. 223
Everhart v. Huntsville Female College Clay
Milton Humes and John T. Morgan, for Everhart.
S. F. Rice, for Clay, Adm'r. D. D. Shelby, L. P. Walker, and John D. Brandon, for Female College.
WAITE, C. J.

## 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
# Flower, Fruit, and Thorn Pieces/Volume 1/Biographical Sketch of Jean Paul Friedrich Richter

Biographical Sketch
of
Jean Paul Friedrich Richter,
By THOMAS CARLYLE.
Biographical Sketch.
# Flower-de-Luce (Collection)/Flower-de-Luce

FLOWER-DE-LUCE.
BEAUTIFUL lily, dwelling by still rivers,
Or solitary mere,
Or where the sluggish meadow-brook delivers
Its waters to the weir!
Thou laughest at the mill, the whirr and worry
Of spindle and of loom,
And the great wheel that toils amid the hurry
And rushing of the flume.
​Born to the purple, born to joy and pleasance,
Thou dost not toil nor spin,
But makest glad and radiant with thy presence
The meadow and the lin.
The wind blows, and uplifts thy drooping banner,
And round thee throng and run
The rushes, the green yeomen of thy manor,
The outlaws of the sun.
The burnished dragon-fly is thine attendant,
And tilts against the field,
And down the listed sunbeam rides resplendent
With steel-blue mail and shield.
​Thou art the Iris, fair among the fairest,
Who, armed with golden rod
And winged with the celestial azure, bearest
The message of some God.
Thou art the Muse, who far from crowded cities
Hauntest the sylvan streams,
Playing on pipes of reed the artless ditties
That come to us as dreams.
O flower-de-luce, bloom on, and let the river
Linger to kiss thy feet!
O flower of song, bloom on, and make forever
The world more fair and sweet
# Flower-de-Luce (Collection)/Hawthorne

HAWTHORNE.
May 23, 1864.
HOW beautiful it was, that one bright day In the long week of rain! Though all its splendor could not chase away The omnipresent pain.
The lovely town was white with apple-blooms, And the great elms o'erhead Dark shadows wove on their aerial looms Shot through with golden thread.
​Across the meadows, by the gray old manse, The historic river flowed: I was as one who wanders in a trance, Unconscious of his road.
The faces of familiar friends seemed strange; Their voices I could hear, And yet the words they uttered seemed to change Their meaning to my ear.
For the one face I looked for was not there, The one low voice was mute; Only an unseen presence filled the air, And baffled my pursuit.
​Now I look back, and meadow, manse, and stream Dimly my thought defines; I only see—a dream within a dream— The hill-top hearsed with pines.
I only hear above his place of rest Their tender undertone, The infinite longings of a troubled breast, The voice so like his own.
There in seclusion and remote from men The wizard hand lies cold, Which at its topmost speed let fall the pen, And left the tale half told.
​Ah! who shall lift that wand of magic power, And the lost clew regain? The unfinished window in Aladdin's tower Unfinished must remain!
# Flower-de-Luce (Collection)/Christmas Bells

CHRISTMAS BELLS.
I HEARD the bells on Christmas Day Their old, familiar carols play, And wild and sweet The words repeat Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And thought how, as the day had come, The belfries of all Christendom Had rolled along The unbroken song Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
​Till, ringing, singing on its way, The world revolved from night to day, A voice, a chime, A chant sublime Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Then from each black, accursed mouth The cannon thundered in the South, And with the sound The carols drowned Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
It was as if an earthquake rent The hearth-stones of a continent, ​And made forlorn The households born Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And in despair I bowed my head; "There is no peace on earth," I said; "For hate is strong, And mocks the song Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: "God is not dead; nor doth he sleep! The Wrong shall fail, The Right prevail, With peace on earth, good-will to men!"
# Flower-de-Luce (Collection)/Divina Commedia

DIVINA COMMEDIA.
DIVINA COMMEDIA.
I.
OFT have I seen at some cathedral door A laborer, pausing in the dust and heat, Lay down his burden, and with reverent feet Enter, and cross himself, and on the floor Kneel to repeat his paternoster o'er; Far off the noises of the world retreat; The loud vociferations of the street Become an undistinguishable roar. ​So, as I enter here from day to day, And leave my burden at this minster gate, Kneeling in prayer, and not ashamed to pray, The tumult of the time disconsolate To inarticulate murmurs dies away, While the eternal ages watch and wait.
II.
HOW strange the sculptures that adorn these towers! This crowd of statues, in whose folded sleeves Birds build their nests; while canopied with leaves Parvis and portal bloom like trellised bowers, And the vast minster seems a cross of flowers! But fiends and dragons on the gargoyled eaves Watch the dead Christ between the living thieves, And, underneath, the traitor Judas lowers! ​Ah! from what agonies of heart and brain, What exultations trampling on despair, What tenderness, what tears, what hate of wrong, What passionate outcry of a soul in pain, Uprose this poem of the earth and air, This mediæval miracle of song!
III.
I ENTER, and I see thee in the gloom Of the long aisles, O poet saturnine! And strive to make my steps keep pace with thine. The air is filled with some unknown perfume; The congregation of the dead make room For thee to pass; the votive tapers shine; Like rooks that haunt Ravenna's groves of pine The hovering echoes fly from tomb to tomb. ​From the confessionals I hear arise Rehearsals of forgotten tragedies, And lamentations from the crypts below; And then a voice celestial, that begins With the pathetic words, "Although your sins As scarlet be," and ends with "as the snow."
IV.
I LIFT mine eyes, and all the windows blaze With forms of saints and holy men who died, Here martyred and hereafter glorified; And the great Rose upon its leaves displays Christ's Triumph, and the angelic roundelays, With splendor upon splendor multiplied; And Beatrice again at Dante's side No more rebukes, but smiles her words of praise.
​And then the organ sounds, and unseen choirs
Sing the old Latin hymns of peace and love, And benedictions of the Holy Ghost; And the melodious bells among the spires O'er all the house-tops and through heaven above Proclaim the elevation of the Host!
V.
O STAR of morning and of liberty! O bringer of the light, whose splendor shines Above the darkness of the Apennines, Forerunner of the day that is to be! The voices of the city and the sea, The voices of the mountains and the pines, Repeat thy song, till the familiar lines Are footpaths for the thought of Italy! ​Thy fame is blown abroad from all the heights, Through all the nations, and a sound is heard, As of a mighty wind, and men devout, Strangers of Rome, and the new proselytes, In their own language hear thy wondrous word, And many are amazed and many doubt.
# Flower-de-Luce

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Flower-de-Luce."
* 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.
* Flower-de-Luce, a collection of poems by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
* Flower-de-Luce, a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
# Flower-de-Luce (Collection)/Giotto's Tower

GIOTTO'S TOWER.
HOW many lives, made beautiful and sweet By self-devotion and by self-restraint, Whose pleasure is to run without complaint On unknown errands of the Paraclete,
Wanting the reverence of unshodden feet, Fail of the nimbus which the artists paint Around the shining forehead of the saint, And are in their completeness incomplete!
​In the old Tuscan town stands Giotto's tower, The lily of Florence blossoming in stone,— A vision, a delight, and a desire,—
The builder's perfect and centennial flower, That in the night of ages bloomed alone, But wanting still the glory of the spire.
# Excelsior (Longfellow)

The shades of night were falling fast, As through an Alpine village passed A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice, A banner with the strange device, Excelsior!
His brow was sad; his eye beneath, Flashed like a falchion from its sheath, And like a silver clarion rung The accents of that unknown tongue, Excelsior!
In happy homes he saw the light Of household fires gleam warm and bright; Above, the spectral glaciers shone, And from his lips escaped a groan, Excelsior!
"Try not the Pass!" the old man said; "Dark lowers the tempest overhead, The roaring torrent is deep and wide!" And loud that clarion voice replied, Excelsior!
"O stay," the maiden said, "and rest Thy weary head upon this breast!" A tear stood in his bright blue eye, But still he answered, with a sigh, Excelsior!
"Beware the pine tree's withered branch! Beware the awful avalanche!" This was the peasant's last Good-night, A voice replied, far up the height, Excelsior!
At break of day, as heavenward The pious monks of Saint Bernard Uttered the oft-repeated prayer, A voice cried through the startled air, Excelsior!
A traveller, by the faithful hound, Half-buried in the snow was found, Still grasping in his hand of ice That banner with the strange device, Excelsior!
There in the twilight cold and gray, Lifeless, but beautiful, he lay, And from the sky, serene and far, A voice fell, like a falling star, Excelsior!
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
# Excellent old song intitled Young Beichan and Susie Pye/Britannia's call

Britannia's Call.
COME, ye lads, who wish to shine Bright in future glory, Haste to arms, and form the line that leads to martial glory. Charge the musket, point the lance, brave the worst of dangers; Tell the blustering sons of France, that we to fear are strangers.
​Chorus.Charge the musket, point the lance, brave the worst of dangers; And tell the blust’ring— charge the musket, point the lance, Brave the worst of dangers; and tell the blust’ring sons of France, That we to fear are strangers,
Britain, whent he Lion’s rous’d, and her flag is rearing, Always finds her sons dispos’d, To drub the foe that’s daring. Charge the musket, &c.
Hearts of Oak with speed advance, pour your naval thunder On the trembling sons of France, and hrike the world witst wonder. Charge the musket, &c.
Honour for the brave to share, is the noblest booty; Guard your courts, protect the fair, for that’s a Briton’s duty. Charge the musket, &c.
Now since Spain to take their port, Forms a base alliance, All unite, and British hearts May bid the world defiance.
Beat the drum, the trumpet found, Manly and united. Dangers face, maintain your ground, And see your country righted.
FINIS.
J. Neilson, printer.
# Excelsior

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Excelsior."
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, 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.
* Excelsior, a poem by Ralph Waldo Emerson
* Excelsior, a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
# Excellent old song intitled Young Beichan and Susie Pye

AN EXCELLENT OLD SONG,
INTITLED
OUNG BEICHAN
AND
SUSIE PYE.
To which is added,
BRITANNIA’S CALL.
GLASGOW: Published by J. Lumsden & Son.
1821.
* Young Beichan and Susie Pye
* Britannia's Call
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
# Excelsior (Emerson)

* Excelsior in May-day and other pieces (1867)
* Excelsior in Poems (Household Edition, 1904)