OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Theatrical speaker/Tell's Speech

tell's speech.
Ye crags and peaks, I’m with you once again! I hold to you the hands you first beheld, To show they still are free. Methinks I hear A spirit in your echoes answer me, And bid your tenant welcome to his home Again!—O sacred forms, how proud you look! How high you lift your heads into the sky! How huge you are! how mighty and how free! Ye are the things that tower, that shine—whose smile Makes glad—whose frown is terrible—whose forms, Robed or unrobed, do all the impress wear Of awe divine. Ye guards of liberty, I‘m with you once again!—I call to you With all my voice!—I hold my hands to you To show they still are free, I rush to you As though I could embrace you! Scaling yonder peak, I saw an eagle wheeling near its brow 0‘er the abyss:— his broad-expanded wings Lay calm and motionless upon the air, As if he floated there without their aid, By the sole act of his unlorded will That buoy‘d him proudly up. Instinctively I bent my bow; yet kept he rounding still His airy circle, as in the delight Of measuring the ample range beneath And round about absorb’d, he heeded not The death that threaten’d him.—I could not shoot;— ‘Twas liberty!—I turned my bow aside, And let him soar away! Heavens, with what pride I used ​To walk these hills, and look up to my God, And bless him that it was so. It was free— From end to end, from cliff to lake 'twas free! Free as our torrents are that leap our rocks, And plough our valleys, without asking leave;. Or as our peaks that wear their caps of snow, In very presence of the regal sun. How happy was it then! I loved Its very storms. Yes, Emma, I have sat In my boat at night, when midway o'er the lake The stars went out, and down the mountain gorge The wind came roaring. I have sat and eyed The thunder breaking from his cloud, and smiled To see him shake his lightnings o'er my head And think I had no master save his own. You know the jutting cliff round which a track Up hither winds, whose base is but the brow To such another one, with scanty room For two a breast to pass? O'ertaken there By the mountain blast, I've laid me flat along, And while gust followed gust more furiously, As if to sweep me o'er the horrid brink, And I have thought of other lands, whose storms Are summer flaws to those of mine, and just Have wished me there—the thought that mine was free Has check'd that wish, I have raised my head, And cried in thraldom to that furious wind, Blow on! This is the land of liberty!
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
# Theatrical speaker/The Drunkard and his Bottle

THE DRUNKARD AND HIS BOTTLE.
Sober. Touch thee! No. Viper of vengeance! I'll break thy head against the wall, Did you not promise?—ay— To make me strong as Sampson— And rich—rich as Crœsus— (I'll wring thy villainous neck), And wise—wise as Solomon, And happier than the happiest!
But instead of this—villain! You've stripped me of my locks— Left my pocket empty as a cuckoo's nest In March-fooled me out of all my senses— Made me ragged—made me wretched, And then laid me in a ditch! ​Touch thee! sure as there's vengeance In this fist, I'll sear the moon With thy broken skull! But—one embrace before thou die:— (tasting.) Afloat. 'Tis best to part in friendship. Ah! thou last some virtues yet: I always thought 'twas best, To give the devil his due: First tack. And—(tasting)—though devil thou art, Thou hast a pleasant face— A sparkling eye—a ruby lip— A blushing cheek—and thy breath— (tasting) Half seas over.'Tis sw-e-eter than the Bre-e-zes that ev-er gambol Till the break of day A a mong the beds of roses.
Three sheets in My ho honey (tasting) thou shalt not die. the wind. I'll stand by thee, day and night, And fi-ight like Her (hic) cu-les. I'll re e-each the parson (hic) a little wisdom I'll preach (hic) tem-per-ance too, I'll live on mil-(hic)k and honey, Aground. And (falling) be the ha hap-pi-est man on earth. (hic.)
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
# Theatrical speaker/The Old Man, his Son, and Ass

the old man, his son and ass.
A country fellow and his son, they tell In modern fables, had an ass to sell: For this intent they turn'd it out to play, And fed so well that by the destin'd day, They brought the creature into sleek repair, And drove it gently to a neighb'ring fair.
As they were jogging on, a rural class Was heard to say, "Look, look there at that ass And those two blockheads trudging on each side That have not either of 'em sense to ride: Asses all three and thus the country folks On man and boy began to cut their jokes.
Th' old fellow minded nothing that they said, But every word stuck in the young one's head; And they began their comment there upon "Ne'er heed 'em lad", "Nay, father, do get on.", "Not I, indeed." "Why then, let me, pray," "Well do: and see what prating tongues will say
The boy was mounted; and they had not got Much further on, before another knot, Just as the ass passing by, pad, pad, Cried, "O! that lazy looby of a lad, How unconcernedly the gaping brute Lets the poor aged fellow walk a foot."
Down came the son, on hearing this account, And begg'd and pray'd, and made his father mount: ​Till a third party on a farther stretch, "See! see!" exclaim'd, that old hard-hearted wretch! How like a justice there he sits, or squire, While the poor lad keepswadin through the mire"
"Stop," cried the lad, still deeper vex'd in mind "Stop father; stop let me get on behind." This done, thc thought they ccrtainly should please, Escape reproaches, and be both at case, For having tried each practicable way, What could be lcft for jokers now to say?
Still disappointed by succeeding tone. "Hark ye, you fellow "Is that ass your own? Get off, for shame, or one of you at least;
You both deserve to carry the poor beast; Ready to drop down upon the road, With such a hugc unconscionablc load."
On this they both dismountcd; and, somc say Contriv'd to carry, the remaining way The ass between em; prints are seen, they add, The ass supported by the man and lad, Others omit that fancy in the print, As ovcrstraining an ingcnious hint.
Thc copy that wc follow, says, the man Rubb'd down his ass, and took to his first plan; Walk'd to the fair and sold him, got his price, And gave his son this pertinent advicc "Let talkers talk; stick thou to what is best ;
To think of pleasing all, is all a jcst."
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
# Theatrical speaker/The Father Reformed

THE FATHER REFORMED.
Father. Come, darling, take a little toddy, It is a cold and rainy day; A little's good for any body; Come, take a little, child, I pray.
Child. O father, do not tempt me so, I fear I'll love it by and by, And then my love will grow and grow, Till I shall drink your bottle dry.
​Father. Fie, fie, that uncle Charles, I think, Has turned you silly quit, and wild: Would your dear father tell you drink If this would hurt his darling child?
Child. Father, I love you from my heart, But O, I fear to taste your brandy; The sugared dram shall be your part And I will have my sugar candy. O, father! tell me what's the matter At Mr. Toper's house, just by; O see the little children scatter, And hear their mother shriek and cry!
Father. Why, child, that lazy drunken hog Has just come home to beat his wife; The brute is now so full of grog, That all must run to save their life.
Child. And yet when he was young, they say, He was as good as any body; But every cold or rainy day, His father gave the darling toddy. Father, if he had never tasted, Would he have been a drunkard now? His credit gone, his money wasted, His wife and children sunk in woe?
Father. But ah, my ehild, he drank too deep, He should have stopped at moderation: If we in proper limits keep, There is no danger in ereation.
Child. And, father, I may drink too deep, If I should drink your sweetened grog, And, oh! how would my father weep To hear them call me "drunken hog!" ​And father, don't the Bible say, No drunkards shall with Jesus dewll? That God will send them far away, To sigh and weep in deepest hell? I love you, father, that you know— O do not spoil your darling son;—- But should I drink and sink to woe, I'll say my father urged me on.
Father. Enough, my son, I've no desire To urge you on to woe and pain; Ill throw my toddy in the fire, And never taste myself again. My child has rescued me from shame, And filled his father's heart with joy; Sure I had gained a drunkard's grave But for this precious darling boy. Another drop I will not covet; (James, break that filthy demi-john; For when a man begins to love it, He is already half undone.
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
# Thebais

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Thebais."
* 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.
* "The Thebais", a poem by Homer, translated by H. G. Evelyn-White.
* Phoenician Women, a play by Seneca the Younger. Multiple English translations exist.
# Thebes

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Thebes."
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, travel guide, 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.
In the 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica:
* Thebes (Greece)
* Thebes (Egypt)
* Thebes, Romance of
# Theft: A Play In Four Acts

Time of Play, To-Day, in Washington, D. C. It Occurs in Twenty Hours
* Characters
* Actors' Description of Characters
* Act I A Room in the House of Senator Chalmers
* Act II Rooms of Howard Knox at Hotel Waltham
* Act III A Room in the Washington House of Anthony Starkweather
* Act IV Same as Act I
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
# Theatrical speaker/The Country Schoolmaster

the county schoolmaster.
A Country Schoolmaster, high Jonas Bell, Once undertook of little souls, To furnish up their jobbernowls— In other words, he taught them how to spell, ​And well adapted to the task was Bell, Whose iron visage measur'd half an ell: With huge proboscis, and eye-brows of soot Arm'd at the jowl just like a boar, And when he gave an angry roar, The little schoolboys stood like fishes mute.
Poor Jonas, tho' a patient man as Job, (Yet still, like Job, was sometimes heard to growl Was by a scholar's adamantine nod, Beyond all patience gravell'd to the soul, I question whether Jonas in the Fish Did ever diet on a bitterer dish. Twas thus—a lady who supported Bell, Came unexpectedly to hear them spell; The pupil fixed on by this pedagogue, Her son, a little round fac'd' ruddy rogue Who thus letters on the table laid— M. I. L. K,—and paused—"Well, sir, what that?" "I cannot tell," the boy all trembling said.— "Not tell," you little blind and stupid brat' "Not tell," roar'd Jonas, in a violent rage, And quick prepared an angry war to wage. "Tell me this instant, or I'll flay thy hide— "Come, Sir. "Dost thou this birchen weapon see? "What puts thy mother in her tea? With lifted eyes the quaking rogue reply'd, "RUM, Sir$^{...}$"
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
# Thirty Charades/Answers

Here are the solutions to Miss Well's bright charades which are published on page 1100 of this number:
ANSWERS TO THE CHARADES.
# They dropped like Flakes—

* "The Battle-Field" in Poems: Second Series (1891)
* "They dropped like flakes, they dropped like stars" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 13/From Lucy Howth to Jonathan Swift - 2

FROM LADY HOWTH.
KNOWING you to be very poor, I have sent you a couple of wild ducks, a couple of partridges, a side of venison, and some plover, which will help to keep your house this Christmas. You may make a miser's feast, and drink your blue-eyed nymph in a bumper, as we do the drapier; and when these are out, let me know, and you shall have a fresh supply. I have sent them by a blackguard, ​knowing you to be of a very generous temper, though very poor. My lord and husband joins with me in wishing you a merry Christmas, and many of them; and am sincerely your affectionate friend and sea nymph.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 13/From Kath. Richardson to Jonathan Swift - 1

FROM MISS RICHARDSON.
SUMMER-SEAT,
I WAS favoured some time ago with your most obliging letter, wherein you are pleased to say so many civil things to me, that I have been altogether at a loss how to make proper acknowledgments for the honour you have done me. The commendations you are so good as to bestow upon me, would make my vanity insufferable to my neighbours, if I were not conscious that I do not deserve them; and although I shall always account it a great unhappiness to me that I never have been in your company, yet this advantage I have from it, that my faults are unknown to you. If I have any thing commendable about me, I sincerely own myself indebted to you for it, having endeavoured as much as I could to model myself by the useful instructions that are to be gathered from your works; for which my sex in general (although I believe some of them do not think so) is highly obliged to you. The opinion you are pleased to entertain of me, I fancy is owing to my uncle's partiality, who has frequently been so kind as to take pains to make persons unacquainted with me think better of me than afterward they found I deserved. I have great reason to complain of his treatment in this particular; but in all others I have met with so much kindness from him, that I must think it my duty to lay hold of every ​opportunity that falls in my way to oblige him. Sir, you have it in your power to give me one, by making him a visit at Summer-Seat, where all the skill I have in housekeeping should be employed to have every thing in that manner that would be most pleasing to you, which I know is the most agreeable service I could do for him. You are pleased to wish in your letter that you had hands long enough to beat me. What an honour and happiness would I esteem it, to be thought worthy of your correction? but I fear you would find my faults so numerous, that you would think me one of those ladies that do not deserve to be mended.
Your letter would have given me the greatest pleasure of any thing I have ever met with, had it not been for the complaints you make of your health, which give me a most sensible concern, as they ought to do every body that has any regard for this kingdom. I hope the good weather will set you right, and that the summer will induce you to visit this northern part of the world. I fear I have by this time tired out your patience with female impertinence, and given you too great reason to change the favourable thoughts you did me the honour to entertain of me; I will forbear to be longer troublesome to you, only I beg leave to add my best wishes for your good health, that you may live many years to be a blessing to mankind in general, and this country in particular. I am, with the highest esteem, and greatest respect, sir, your most obedient and most humble servant,
KATH. RICHARDSON.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 13/From Marie St. John to Jonathan Swift - 2 (Translation)

Translation of letter: From Marie St. John to Jonathan Swift - 2
TRANSLATION.
SIR,
MR. Pope has given me great pleasure, by assuring me that you are in good health, and showing me a mark of your kind remembrance, in one of your letters. I think you have chosen a wrong time to confine yourself to Dublin, while we reside at Dawley. We should have taken great care of you this winter, and joined together in our aversion to mankind, as much as you pleased; for I do not find they much improve upon a near acquaintance. The French have lately formed in France two theatrical pieces, which are said to have been drawn from Gulliver. They are such wretched stuff, that I shall not send them to you; but it is at least an indication of your honest traveller's having had such success ​among us, that the name of Gulliver is sufficient to recommend the most paltry performance to the publick. Our farmer embraces you: he complains of your going away without giving him an opportunity to take leave of you, and of your omitting to mention a word concerning him, in one of your letters: but I fancy you are like the coquettes, who, presuming on the power of their charms, are indifferent how far they may offend. I can assure you, that all trespasses will be forgiven you upon the receipt of the very first letter, and still more readily upon the very first hope that we shall see you again. Adieu; take care of yourself, and we shall be satisfied. I have no notion of sending you any news from this country: I am here a stranger more than ever; and I should never think of being naturalized in any other spot, but where I could spend my days in your company.
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 13/From Josiah Hort to Jonathan Swift - 1

FROM THE BISHOP OF KILMORE.
I SEND you the whole piece, such as it is: I fear you will find the addition, pursuant to your hint, heavy; for I could not get my imagination warmed to the same degree as in the former part. I hope you will supply what shall be wanting of spirit; and when you have pruned the rough feathers, the ands and thats, &c. you will send the Kite to the Faulconer, to set it a flying. I am your very faithful and obedient servant.
J. K.
May not I claim three or four copies when printed?
* ↑ Dr. Josiah Harte, afterward archbishop of Tuam.
* ↑ A satire on Quadrille, for which Mr. Faulkner the printer was sent to Newgate.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 13/From Kath. Richardson to Martha Whiteway - 1

FROM MISS RICHARDSON TO MRS. WHITEWAY.
BELTURBET,
IT was a very unequal match that the dean and you should join in a plot against my uncle and me: you could not fail of carrying your point. Any thing the dean hath a hand in, is done in the most genteel and surprising manner. I fairly own I am caught: I would be glad to know what my uncle will think of himself when he hears the part he acted in it, I have been so well accustomed to receive presents of value from him, that I thought it had been a piece of edging, or some light thing, which he had committed to your care to be forwarded to me. Never was I so surprised as I was when I read your letter, to think that I had received a present from so great a person as the dean; but when I looked upon it, and knew the expense it must be to him, I was quite confounded: it was too great an honour for me, who can never deserve the least favour from him: it is a most beautiful diamond; I own I am proud of finery now, which I never was in my life before. I am highly obliged to you for your improvement of the ring: the dean's hair and name have made it a treasure to me, and I really believe it will be thought so a thousand years hence, if it can be kept so long. I am sure it shall by me, as long as I live, with as ​much care as I keep my eyes, while I have them to look upon it.
My sister, who had the honour of waiting upon you in town, and brought me the ring very safe, is full of acknowledgments for your civilities to her, and returns you her most sincere thanks, with her humble service. Pray give mine most affectionately to miss Harrison. I am, dear madam, your most obliged and most humble servant,
KATH. RICHARDSON.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 13/From Lucy Howth to Jonathan Swift - 1

FROM LADY HOWTH.
KILFANE, NEAR KILKENNY,
TO show you how much I covet your correspondence, I would not even give myself time to rest; for gratitude obliges me to return you thanks for all your favours, in particular your last, which quite cured me of my cold. I can as yet give you no account of this country, but that I have been mightily hurried, settling my little family. We all got safe here on Monday night; and this day was the fair of Bennet's Bridge, where I had two gentlemen on purpose to look out for a pad for you, but there was not one to be got; but if there be any such thing to be had as a good trotter, such a one as I know you like, I will have it. I do not know whether you will be as free in writing as you are in speaking; but I am sure, were I at your elbow when you read this, you would bid me go to a writing school and a spelling book. My lord joins me in begging you will accept of our best wishes; and hope you will believe me to be, what I really am, your affectionate friend and humble servant,
LUCY HOWTH.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 13/From Marie St. John to Jonathan Swift - 2

Translation of letter to English: From Marie St. John to Jonathan Swift - 2 (Translation)
FROM LADY BOLINGBROKE.
MR. Pope m'a fait grand plaisir, monsieur, de m'assurer que votre santé est bonne; et de me montier dans une de vos lettres des marques de l'honneur de votre souvenir. Je trouve que vous prenez fort mal votre tems d'habiter votre Dublin pendant que nous habitons notre Dawley. Nous aurions eu grand soin de vous cet hiver, et nous aurions haï ensemble le genre humain, autant qu'il vous auroit plû, car je trouve qu'il n'embellit point au croître. On a fait deux pieces de theatre en France, tirées soi-disant des idées de Gulliver. Je ne vous les envoye point, car elles sont détestables: mais cela prouve au moins, que ce bon voyageur a si bien réussi chez nous qu'on ​a crû, qu'en mettant seulement son nom aux plus mauvaises pieces, on les rendroit recommandables au publique. Notre fermier vous embrasse: il se plaint et boude de ce que vous êtes parti sans qu'il ait pu vous dire adieu; et de ce qu'il a vu une de vos lettres, où vous ne dites pas un mot pour lui: mais je vous crois comme les coquettes, qui se fiant à leurs charmes ne s'embarassent pas de leurs torts. En effet ils vous seront pardonnés à la première lettre et encore plus aisément à la première espérance de vous revoir. Adieu, monsieur, portez vous bien, et nous serons content, je ne m'aviserai pas de vous mander des nouvelles de ce pays ci: Je suis étrangère de plus en plus, et je ne serois tentée de me faire naturaliser, que dans ceux où je pourrois vivre avec vous.
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
# Thom's Irish Who's Who/Wardell, John Henry

​WARDELL, John Henry, M.A. (T.C.D., Educ.: Wellington; Trinity College), Dublin; Regius Professor Queen's College, Galway, 1903-8; Reader and Professor of Modern History in the University of Dublin, 1902-11; Member of several British and foreign learned Societies. Pubns.: contributions to journals. Recn.: genealogies; eldest son of late Capt. John C. Warden. R.M.L.I., and Frederica, dau. of William Morgan, M.A., J.P., of The Abbey, Shanagolden, Co. Limerick (descendant of John Weardale, a Royal Squire killed in action, 1312); b. 1878. Res.: The Abbey, Shanagolden, Co. Limerick.
# Thom's Irish Who's Who/Ward, Hon. Edward Henry Harold

became 7th Viscount Bangor
​WARD, Hon. Edward Henry Harold, only son and heir of 6th Viscount Bangor; b. 5th November, 1905.