OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Golden Violet with its Tales of Romance and Chivalry and Other Poems/The Second Day

THE SECOND DAY.
Sweet Spirit of delicious Song, To whom, as of true right, belong The myriad music notes that swell From the poet's breathing shell; We name thy name, and the heart springs Up to the lip, as if with wings, As if thy very motion brought Snatches of inspired thought.
 Is it war? At once are borne Words like notes of martial horn. Is it love? Comes some sweet tale Like that of the nightingale. Is it Nature's lovely face? Rise lines touch'd with her own grace.
Is it some bright garden scene? There, too, hath the minstrel been, Linking words of charmed power With the green leaf and the flower. Is it woman's loveliness? He hath revell’d to excess, Caught all spells that can beguile In dark eye or rosy smile. Is it deed that hath its claim Upon earth's most holy fame, Or those kindly feelings sent But for hearth and home content? Lofty thought, or counsel sage. Seek them in the poet's page; Laurel, laud, and love belong To thee, thou Spirit sweet of Song.
Not in courtly hall to-day Meets the lady's congress gay. 'T is a bright and summer sky,— They will bear it company; Odours float upon the gale, Comrades suiting minstrel tale; Flowers are spreading, carpet meet For the beauty's fairy feet. Shame to stay in marble hall Thus from nature's festival.
 The garden had one fair resort, As if devised for minstrel court: An amphitheatre of trees, Shut from soft cheeks the ruder breeze; While all around the chestnuts made, With closing boughs, a pleasant shade,
Where, if a sunbeam wander'd through, 'T was like the silver fall of dew; The middle was an open space  Of softest grass, and those small flowers, Daisies, whose rose-touch'd leaves retrace  The gold and blush of morning's hours.
 To-day the Countess had for throne An ancient trunk with moss o'ergrown; And at her feet, as if from air A purple cloud had fallen there, Grew thousand violets, whose sighs Breathed forth an Eastern sacrifice; And, like a canopy, o'erhead A Provence rose luxuriant spread, And its white flowers, pale and meek, Seem'd sisters to the lady's cheek.
And ranged in a graceful order round, A fairy court upon fairy ground, Group'd the bright band; and, like a tent, Leaves and bloom over all were blent, Flinging bright colours, but changing fast, As ever the varying sunbeams pass'd; And in the midst grew a myrtle tree, There was the minstrel's place to be, And its buds were delicate, frail, and fair, As the hopes and joys of his own heart are.
# The Golden Wedding

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "The Golden Wedding."
* 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.
* "The Golden Wedding", a poem by Elizabeth Heléne Freston
* "The Golden Wedding", a poem by Harriet McEwen Kimball
# The Goldfinch (1817)

THE
GOLDFINCH:
A
COLLECTION
OF
FAVOURITE SCOTS AND ENGLISH SONGS
Kilmarnock
Printed by H. Crawford.
1817.
* Loudon's bonny Woods and Braes
* Sleeping Maggie
* The Braes of Balquhidder
* The Thistle
* The Wood-Pecker
* The Glasses Sparkle
* Love and Glory
* The Parting Tear
* The Welsh Harper
* Far, far at Sea
* Winter wi' his cloudy brow
* Sally Roy
* The Meeting of the Waters
* The Wandering Bard
* Tam Glen
* Gloomy Winter's now awa'
* Auld Langsyne
* Killoch Burn
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Golden Wedding of Sterling and Sarah Lanier, September 27, 1868

Sidney Lanier composed this poem in Macon, Georgia in 1868. In the volume of complete works The Poems of Sidney Lanier, published posthumously, this poem was characterized as one his “unrevised early poems.”
A rainbow span of fifty years, Painted upon a cloud of tears, In blue for hopes and red for fears,  Finds end in a golden hour to-day. Ah, you to our childhood the legend told, “At the end of the rainbow lies the gold,” And now in our thrilling hearts we hold  The gold that never will pass away.
Gold crushed from the quartz of a crystal life, Gold hammered with blows of human strife, Gold burnt in the love of man and wife,  Till it is pure as the very flame: Gold that the miser will not have, Gold that is good beyond the grave, Gold that the patient and the brave  Amass, neglecting praise and blame.
O golden hour that caps the time Since, heart to heart like rhyme to rhyme, You stood and listened to the chime  Of inner bells by spirits rung, That tinkled many a secret sweet Concerning how two souls should meet, And whispered of Time’s flying feet  With a most piquant silver tongue.
O golden day, —a golden crown For the kingly heads that bowed not down To win a smile or ’scape a frown,  Except the smile and frown of Heaven! Dear heads, still dark with raven hair; Dear hearts, still white in spite of care; Dear eyes, still black and bright and fair  As any eyes to mortals given!
Old parents of a restless race, You miss full many a bonny face That would have smiled a filial grace  Around your Golden Wedding wine. But God is good and God is great. His will be done, if soon or late. Your dead stand happy in yon Gate  And call you blessed while they shine.
So, drop the tear and dry the eyes. Your rainbow glitters in the skies. Here’s golden wine: young, old, arise:  With cups as full as our souls, we say: “Two Hearts, that wrought with smiles through tears This rainbow span of fifty years, Behold how true, true love appears  True gold for your Golden Wedding day!”
# The Golden Treasury of English Songs and Lyrics/Book 1/Poem 3

iii
TIME AND LOVE 1
# The Golden Treasury of English Songs and Lyrics/Book 1/Poem 4

iv 2
# The Golden Treasury of English Songs and Lyrics/Book 1/Poem 41

xli
A RENUNCIATION
# The Golden Treasury of English Songs and Lyrics/Book 1/Poem 42

xlii
# The Golden Treasury of English Songs and Lyrics/Book 1/Poem 44

xliv
DIRGE OF LOVE
# The Golden Treasury of English Songs and Lyrics/Book 1/Poem 45

xlv
FIDELE
# The Golden Treasury of English Songs and Lyrics/Book 1/Poem 26

xxvi
CARPE DIEM
# The Golden Treasury of English Songs and Lyrics/Book 1/Poem 27

xxvii
WINTER
# The Golden Treasury of English Songs and Lyrics/Book 1/Poem 43

xliii
MADRIGAL
# The Golden Treasury of English Songs and Lyrics/Book 1/Poem 36

xxxvi
MADRIGAL
# The Flags of the World/Plate 10

PLATE X.
* 90 Union Flag of Great Britain and Ireland.
* 91 Cross of St. George of England.
* 92 Cross of St. Andrew of Scotland.
* 93 Cross of St. Patrick of Ireland.
* 94 Regimental Colours: 24th of the Line, the 2nd Warwickshire Regiment.
# The Flags of the World/Plate 12

PLATE XII.
* 109 Green's Blackwall Line.
* 110 Cunard Line, Liverpool.
* 111 Peninsular and Oriental Company.
* 112 Australasian Naval Company.
* 113 Devitt & Moore, London.
* 114 Canadian Pacific Company.
* 115 Donald Currie & Co., London.
* 116 Union Steamship Company, Southampton.
* 117 Mediterranean and New York Shipping Company.
* 118 Houlder Brothers & Company, London.
* 119 White Star Line, Liverpool.
* 120 New Zealand Shipping Company.
* 121 Britannia, H.R.H. the Prince of Wales.
* 122 Ailsa, A. B. Walker, Esq.
* 123 Valkyrie, The Earl of Dunraven.
* 124 Hester, Major W. H. Gretton.
* 125 Dream, W. H. Jones, Esq.
* 126 Carina, Admiral Montague.
# The Flags of the World/Plate 11

PLATE XI.
* 95 The White Ensign, Man-of-War.
* 96 The Blue Ensign, Naval Reserve.
* 97 The Red Ensign, Merchant Service.
* 98 Victualling Service.
* 99 Admiralty Flag.
* 100 Ranelagh Yacht Club.
* 101 Yare Yacht Club.
* 102 Royal Thames Yacht Club.
* 103 Dublin Bay Yacht Club.
* 104 Pilot Jack.
* 105 Board of Trade Flag.
* 106 Flag of Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland.
* 107 Customs House Flag.
* 108 Ordnance Flag.
# The Flags of the World/Plate 1

COLOURED PLATES.
PLATE I. :
| 1 Banner of Sir John Botetourte. 2 Banner of Sir Ralph de Monthermer. 3 Banner of Sir Hugh Touches. 4 Banner of Sir William de Ridre. 5 Banner of Sir Hugh Bardolph. 6 Banner of Sir John de Holderton. 7 Banner of Sir Henri de Percy. 8 Banner of Sir Hugh de Courtenay. 9 Banner of Sir Aymer de Valence. 10 Banner of Sir John de Bar. 11 Banner of Sir William de Grandison. | PERSONAL FLAGS—MEDIÆVAL PERIOD. PERSONAL FLAGS—MEDIÆVAL PERIOD. |
# The Flags of the World/Plate 13

PLATE XIII.
* 127 Cape Colony, Government.
* 128 Queensland, Government.
* 129 Canada, Commercial.
* 130 Canada, Government.
* 131 Badge of Straits Settlements.
* 132 Badge of British North Borneo.
* 133 Badge of Tasmania.
* 134 Victoria, Commercial.
* 135 Victoria, Government.
* 136 Badge of New Zealand.
* 137 Badge of Fiji.
* 138 Badge of New South Wales.
* 139 Flag of Viceroy of India.
* 140 Portion of Pendant, Government Colonial vessels.
* 141 Governors' Flag, West Australia.
# The Harp-Weaver/How healthily their feet

XXI
How healthily their feet upon the floor
Strike down! These are no spirits, but a band Of children, surely, leaping hand in hand Into the air in groups of three and four, Wearing their silken rags as if they wore Leaves only and light grasses, or a strand Of black elusive seaweed oozing sand, And running hard as if along a shore. I know how lost forever, and at length How still these lovely tossing limbs shall lie, And the bright laughter and the panting breath; And yet, before such beauty and such strength, Once more, as always when the dance is high, I am rebuked that I believe in death.
# The Harp-Weaver/Humoresque

HUMORESQUE
‘‘Heaven bless the babe!” they said.
“What queer books she must have read!” (Love, by whom I was beguiled, Grant I may not bear a child.)
“Little does she guess to-day What the world may be!” they say. (Snow, drift deep and cover Till the spring my murdered lover.)
# The Harp-Weaver/I, being born a woman

XVIII
I, being born a woman and distressed
By all the needs and notions of my kind, Am urged by your propinquity to find Your person fair, and feel a certain zest To bear your body’s weight upon my breast: So subtly is the fume of life designed, To clarify the pulse and cloud the mind, And leave me once again undone, possessed. Think not for this, however, the poor treason Of my stout blood against my staggering brain, I shall remember you with love, or season My scorn with pity,—let me make it plain: I find this frenzy insufficient reason For conversation when we meet again.
# The Harp-Weaver/I pray you if you love me

V
I pray you if you love me, bear my joy A little while, or let me weep your tears; I, too, have seen the quavering Fate destroy Your destiny’s bright spinning—the dull shears Meeting not neatly, chewing at the thread,— Nor can you well be less aware how fine, How staunch as wire, and how unwarranted Endures the golden fortune that is mine. I pray you for this day at least, my dear, Fare by my side, that journey in the sun; Else must I turn me from the blossoming year And walk in grief the way that you have gone. Let us go forth together to the spring: Love must be this, if it be anything.
# The Harp-Weaver/Gazing upon him now

XVII
Gazing upon him now, severe and dead, It seemed a curious thing that she had lain Beside him many a night in that cold bed, And that had been which would not be again. From his desirous body the great heat Was gone at last, it seemed, and the taut nerves Loosened forever. Formally the sheet Set forth for her to-day those heavy curves And lengths familiar as the bedroom door. She was as one that enters, sly, and proud, To where her husband speaks before a crowd, And sees a man she never saw before— The man who eats his victuals at her side, Small, and absurd, and hers: for once, not hers, unclassified.
THE END
# The Harp-Weaver/Hyacinth

HYACINTH
I am in love with him to whom a hyacinth is dearer
Than I shall ever be dear. On nights when the field-mice are abroad he cannot sleep: He hears their narrow teeth at the bulbs of his hyacinths. But the gnawing at my heart he does not hear.
# The Harp-Weaver/I see so clearly

XIII
I see so clearly now my similar years Repeat each other, shod in rusty black, Like one hack following another hack In meaningless procession, dry of tears, Driven empty, lest the noses sharp as shears Of gutter-urchins at a hearse’s back Should sniff a man died friendless, and attack With silly scorn his deaf triumphant ears; I see so clearly how my life must run One year behind another year until At length these bones that leap into the sun Are lowered into the gravel, and lie still, I would at times the funeral were done And I abandoned on the ultimate hill.
# The Harp-Weaver/From the wan dream

XIII
From the wan dream that was her waking day, Wherein she journeyed, borne along the ground Without her own volition in some way, Or fleeing, motionless, with feet fast bound, Or running silent through a silent house Sharply remembered from an earlier dream, Upstairs, down other stairs, fearful to rouse, Regarding him, the wide and empty scream Of a strange sleeper on a malignant bed, And all the time not certain if it were Herself so doing or some one like to her, From this wan dream that was her daily bread, Sometimes, at night, incredulous, she would wake— A child, blowing bubbles that the chairs and carpet did not break!
# The Harp-Weaver/Here is a wound

IX
Here is a wound that never will heal, I know,
Being wrought not of a dearness and a death, But of a love turned ashes and the breath Gone out of beauty; never again will grow The grass on that scarred acre, though I sow Young seed there yearly and the sky bequeath Its friendly weathers down, far underneath Shall be such bitterness of an old woe. That April should be shattered by a gust, That August should be levelled by a rain, I can endure, and that the lifted dust Of man should settle to the earth again; But that a dream can die, will be a thrust Between my ribs forever of hot pain.
# The Harp-Weaver/I know I am but summer

IV
I know I am but summer to your heart, And not the full four seasons of the year; And you must welcome from another part Such noble moods as are not mine, my dear. No gracious weight of golden fruits to sell Have I, nor any wise and wintry thing; And I have loved you all too long and well To carry still the high sweet breast of Spring. Wherefore I say: O love, as summer goes, I must be gone, steal forth with silent drums, That you may hail anew the bird and rose When I come back to you, as summer comes. Else will you seek, at some not distant time, Even your summer in another clime.
# The Galloway shepherds/I fear it is love

Dated from external evidence
I FEAR it is LOVE.
WHy heaves my fond bosom? what can it mean! Why flutters my heart which was once so serene? Why this sighing & trembling when Daphne is near? Or why, when she’s absent, this sorrow and fear?
For ever, methinks, I with wonder could trace, The thousand soft charms that embelish thy face: Each moment I view thee, new beauties I find, With thy face I am charm’d, but enslav’d by thy mind.
Untainted with folly, unsullied by pride. There native good humour, and virtue reside: Pray heaven that virtue thy soul may supply With compassion for him, who without thee must die.
FINIS.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Gallant Weaver

* "The Gallant Weaver", in The Book of Scottish Song (1843), edited by Alexander Whitelaw
* "The gallant Weaver", in The Poetical Works of Robert Burns (1887), edited by Alexander Smith
# The Gallery

Chlora, come view my soul, and tell
Whether I have contrived it well:
Now all its several lodgings lie,
Composed into one gallery,
And the great arras-hangings, made
Of various facings, by are laid,
That, for all furniture, you‘ll find
Only your picture in my mind.
Here thou art painted in the dress
Of an inhuman murderess;
Examining upon our hearts,
(Thy fertile shop of cruel arts,)
Engines more keen than ever yet
Adornèd tryant‘s cabinet,
Of which the most tormenting are,
Black eyes, red lips, and curlèd hair.
But, on the other side, thou‘rt drawn,
Like to Aurora in the dawn;
When in the east she slumbering lies,
And stretches out her milky thighs,
While all the morning quire does sing,
And manna falls and roses spring,
And, at thy feet, the wooing doves
Sit perfecting their harmless loves.
Like an enchantress here thou show‘st,
Vexing thy restless lover's ghost;
And, by a light obscure, dost rave
Over his entrails, in the cave,
Divining thence, with horrid care,
How long thou shalt continue fair;
And (when informed) them throw‘st away
To be the greedy vulture's prey.
But, against that, thou sitt‘st afloat,
Like Venus in her pearly boat;
The halcyons, calming all that‘s nigh,
Betwixt the air and water fly;
Or, if some rolling wave appears,
A mass of ambergris it bears,
Nor blows more wind than what may well
Convoy the perfume to the smell.
These pictures, and a thousand more,
Of thee, my gallery doth store,
In all the forms thou canst invent,
Either to please me, or torment;
For thou alone, to people me,
Art grown a numerous colony,
And a collection choicer far
Than or Whitehall‘s, or Mantua‘s were.
But of these pictures, and the rest,
That at the entrance likes me best,
Where the same posture and the look
Remains with which I first was took;
A tender shepherdess, whose hair
Hangs loosely playing in the air,
Transplanting flowers from the green hill,
To crown her head and bosom fill.
# The Galley Slave (song)

"Oh, think on my fate! once I freedom enjoy'd"
* "The Galley Slave" in The Canary (1810), a chapbook printed in Paisley
* "The Galley Slave" in A Most Choice Collection of Popular Songs (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
# The Galloway shepherds

Dated from external evidence
THE
Galloway Shepherds.
To which is added,
The Royal Highlanders Farewel.
The New Way of Lochaber.
With the ASWER.
LOVE inviting REASON.
I FEAR it is LOVE.
Entered according to order.
* The Galloway shepherds
* The Royal Highlanders Farewel
* The New Way of Lochaber
* Love Inviting Reason
* I Fear it is Love
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Galley Slave

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "The Galley Slave."
* 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 Galley-slave", a ballad by Rudyard Kipling
* "The Galley Slave", a Scottish song
# The Galloway shepherds/Love inviting reason

Dated from external evidence
LOVE Inviting REASON.
Tune—Chami my Chattle, ne duce skar me.
WHen innocent pastime our pleasure did crown, upon a green meadow, or under a tree, E’er Annie became a fine lady in town, how lovely, and loving, and bonny was she? Rouze up thy reason, my beautifu’ Annie, let ne’er a new whim ding thy fancy agee; O! as thou art bonny be faithfu’ and canny, and favour thy Jamie wha doats upon thee!
Does the death of a lintwhite give Annie the spleen, can tyning of trifles be uneasy to thee! Can lap-dogs and monkies draw tears frae these een, that looks with indifference on poor dying me! Rouze up thy reason my beatifu’ Annie, and dinna prefer a paroquet to me; O! as thou art bonny, be prudent and canny, and think on thy Jamie who doats upon thee.
Ah! thou’d a new mantua or Flanders lac’d head, or yet a wee cottie, tho’ never so fine, ​Gar thee grow forgetfu’, and let his: heart bleed, that anes had some hope of purchasing thine? Rouze up thy reason, my beautifn’ Annie, and dinna prefer your fleegaries to me; O! as thou art bonny be faithfu' and canny, and tain’t a true lover that donts upon thee.
Shall a Paris edition of new-fangle Sany tho’ gilt o’er wi’ laces and fringes he be, By adorning himself, be admir’d by fair Annie, and aim at those benisons promis’d to me: Rouze up thy resson my beautifu’ Annie, and never prefer a light dancer to me; O! as thou art bonny, be constant and canny, love only thy Jamie who donts upon thee.
O! think my dear charmer, on ilka sweet hour, that shade away saftly between thee and me, E'er squirrels, or beaus, or sopp’ry had power, to rival my love and impels upon thee. Rouze up thy reason my beautifu’ Annie, and let thy desires be a’ center’d in me; O! as thou art bonny, be faithfu’ and canny, and love him wha’s langing to center in thee.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Galloway shepherds/The new way of Lochaber

Dated from external evidence
The New Way of LOCHABER.
THese lines from your lover, dear Jenny receive, At Carlisle confined will make you to grieve, I prisoner was taken at Culloden plain; I wish in that battle that I had been slain. ​But fate has decreed it, it must: not be so, I wounded, was taken, and with them must go: But my fate, my dear Jenny, it troubles me sore, For thee nor Lochaber, I ne’er shall see more.
I often was told by the chief of the Clan, That Charly he was a brave valiant man, But none of his bravery I e’er yet did see, De’il take them for liars, they’ve ruined me. Deluded by flattery, I soon did comply, I with them did fight and for them must die: O my fate, my dear Jenny, it troubles me sore, For thee nor Lochaber I’ll never see more.
The defeating of Johnny Cope at Preston-pans, Enliven’d our hearts, and encourag’d our Clans; Flush’d with success, to England we then did steer, But the valiant Duke William put us in great fear. He fought us he beat us, he ruin’d us quite, And now we are all in a sorrowful plight: May heaven its blessing, upon thee love, pour,
For thee nor Lochaber I ne’er shall see more.
The ANSWER.
O Billy, thy letter cuts me to the heart, To think that for ever I from thee must part, Your Non-jurant teachers hath brought thee to this, Now you’ll lose your life love, and I’ll lose my bliss. You being so brave, and a valliant young man, You soon was inticed to join the proud Clan, And I told you at parting, you know with much pain, That me nor Lochaber, you’d ne’er see again.
O I did you intreat, and I did you implore, To stay with your Jenny, who did you adore, The name of a coward, you curs’d and despis’d, You slighted my counsel, my tears, and my cries: And don’t you remember, your answer so smart, A fair lady was never won with a faint heart, And thus my advice, you did treat with disdain, But you’ll never see me nor Lochaber again.
​O what would you give your dear Jenny to see? And what would you give this day to be free? O what would you give your dear charmer to see? O what would you give in Lochaber to be? Was it in my power, I would ease all your fears, And your bleeding wounds I would bath with my tears On my bosom I would lull thee asleep from thy pain, But you’ll never see me nor Lochaber again.
For the Judges I hear are already come down, Which gave to my heart a most desperate stown, The success of your trial, I long for to hear: But there is no hope that you can get clear. You went with such freedom, with bonnet & plaid, With a broad sword & target, like a brave Highland lad, And I told you at parting, you know with much pain, That you’d never see me nor Lochaber again.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Hope of the Great Community

Index page: The Hope of the Great Community (1916).djvu
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
THE HOPE OF THE GREAT COMMUNITY
BY
JOSIAH ROYCE
LATE ALFORD PROFESSOR OF NATURAL RELIGION MORAL PHILOSOPHY AND CIVIL POLITY AT HARVARD UNIVERSITY
New York
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1916
All rights reserved
Contents
Chapter VI. Words of Professor Royce at the Walton Hotel at Philadelphia, December 29, 1915