OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Poems of Passion/The Duet

I was smoking a cigarette;  Maud, my wife, and the tenor, McKey, Were singing together a blithe duet, And days it were better I should forget  Came suddenly back to me— Days when life seemed a gay masque ball, And to love and be loved was the sum of it all.
As they sang together, the whole scene fled,  The room's rich hangings, the sweet home air, Stately Maud, with her proud blond head, And I seemed to see in her place instead  A wealth of blue-black hair, And a face, ah! your face—yours, Lisette; A face it were wiser I should forget.
We were back—well, no matter when or where;  But you remember, I know, Lisette. I saw you, dainty and debonair, With the very same look that you used to wear  In the days I should forget. And your lips, as red as the vintage we quaffed, Were pearl-edged bumpers of wine when you laughed.
Two small slippers with big rosettes  Peeped out under your kilt skirt there, While we sat smoking our cigarettes (Oh, I shall be dust when my heart forgets')  And singing that self-same an, And between the verses, for interlude, I kissed your throat and your shoulders nude.
You were so full of a subtle file,  You were so warm and so sweet, Lisette; You were everything men admire, And there were no fetters to make us tire,  For you were—a pretty grisette. But you loved, as only such natures can, With a love that makes heaven or hell for a man.
They have ceased singing that old duet,  Stately Maud and the tenor, McKey. "You are burning your coat with your cigarette, And qu' avez vous, dearest, your lids are wet,"  Maud says, as she leans o'er me. And I smile, and lie to her, husband-wise, "Oh, it is nothing but smoke in my eyes."
# Poems of Passion/The Farewell of Clarimonde

Adieu, Romauld! But thou canst not forget me. Although no more I haunt thy dreams at night, Thy hungering heart forever must regret me, And starve for those lost moments of delight.
Naught shall avail thy priestly rites and duties, Nor fears of Hell, nor hopes of Heaven beyond: Before the Cross shall rise my fair form's beauties—- The lips, the limbs, the eyes of Clarimonde.
Like gall the wine sipped from the sacred chalice Shall taste to one who knew my red mouth's bliss, When Youth and Beauty dwelt in Love's own palace, And life flowed on in one eternal kiss.
Through what strange ways I come, dear heart, to reach thee, From viewless lands, by paths no man e'er trod! I braved all fears, all dangers dared, to teach thee A love more mighty than thy love of God.
Think not in all His Kingdom to discover Such joys, Romauld, as ours, when fierce yet fond I clasped thee—kissed thee—crowned thee my one lover: Thou canst not find another Clarimonde.
I knew all arts of love: he who possessed me Possessed all women, and could never tire; A new life dawned for him who once caressed me; Satiety itself I set on fire.
Inconstancy I chained: men died to win me; Kings cast by crowns for one hour on my breast: And all the passionate tide of love within me I gave to thee, Romauld. Wert thou not blest?
Yet, for the love of God, thy hand hath riven Our welded souls. But not in prayer well conned, Not in thy dearly-purchased peace of Heaven, Canst thou forget those hours with Clarimonde.
# Poems of Passion/Solitude

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;  Weep, and you weep alone; For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,  But has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and the hills will answer;  Sigh, it is lost on the air; The echoes bound to a joyful sound,  But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;  Grieve, and they turn and go; They want full measure of all your pleasure,  But they do not need your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many;  Be sad, and you lose them all; There are none to decline your nectar'd wine,  But alone you must drink life's gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;  Fast, and the world goes by. Succeed and give, and it helps you live,  But no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure  For a large and lordly train, But one by one we must all file on  Through the narrow aisles of pain.
# Poems of Passion/The Creed

Whoever was begotten by pure love, And came desired and welcome into life, Is of immaculate conception. He Whose heart is full of tenderness and truth, Who loves mankind more than he loves himself, And cannot find room in his heart for hate, May be another Christ. We all may be The Saviours of the world if we believe In the Divinity which dwells in us And worship it, and nail our grosser selves, Our tempers, greeds, and our unworthy aims, Upon the cross. Who giveth love to all; Pays kindness for unkindness, smiles for frowns; And lends new courage to each fainting heart, And strengthens hope and scatters joy abroad— He, too, is a Redeemer, Son of God.
# Poetical Remains of the Late Mrs Hemans/Sabbath Sonnet

SABBATH SONNET.
Composed by Mrs Hemans a few days before her death, and dictated to her Brother.
How many blessed groups this hour are bending Through England's primrose meadow paths their way Towards spire and tower, 'midst shadowy elms ascending, Whence the sweet chimes proclaim the hallowed day. The Halls from old heroic ages grey Pour their fair children forth; and hamlets low, With whose thick orchard-blooms the soft winds play, Send out their inmates in a happy flow, Like a freed vernal stream. I may not tread With them those pathways,—to the feverish bed Of sickness bound;—yet, oh my God! I bless Thy mercy, that with Sabbath peace hath filled My chastened heart, and all its throbbings stilled To one deep calm of lowliest thankfulness.
# Poetical Remains of the Late Mrs Hemans/Prayer Continued

XX.
PRAYER CONTINUED.
What in me is dark Illumine; what is low raise and support. Milton.
Far are the wings of intellect astray, That strive not, Father! to thy heavenly seat; They rove, but mount not; and the tempests beat Still on their plumes:—O source of mental day! Chase from before my spirit's track the array Of mists and shadows, raised by earthly care In troubled hosts that cross the purer air, And veil the opening of the starry way, Which brightens on to thee!—Oh! guide thou right My thought's weak pinion, clear mine inward sight, The eternal springs of beauty to discern, Welling beside thy throne; unseal mine ear, Nature's true oracles in joy to hear: Keep my soul wakeful still to listen and to learn.
# Poetical Remains of the Late Mrs Hemans/Song for Air by Hummel

SONG FOR AIR BY HUMMEL.
Oh! if thou wilt not give thine heart,  Give back my own to me, For if in thine I have no part,  Why should mine dwell with thee?
Yet no! this mournful love of mine  I will not from me cast; Let me but dream 'twill win me thine  By its deep truth at last!
Can aught so fond, so faithful, live  Through years without reply? Oh! if thy heart thou wilt not give,  Give me a thought, a sigh?
# Poetical Remains of the Late Mrs Hemans/Orchard Blossoms

VIII.
ORCHARD BLOSSOMS.
Doth thy heart stir within thee at the sight Of orchard blooms upon the mossy bough? Doth their sweet household smile waft back the glow Of childhood's morn?—the wondering fresh delight In earth's new colouring, then all strangely bright, A joy of fairy-land?—Doth some old nook, Haunted by visions of thy first-loved book, Rise on thy soul, with faint-streaked blossoms white Showered o'er the turf, and the lone primrose-knot, And robin's nest, still faithful to the spot, And the bee's dreamy chime?—O gentle friend! The world's cold breath, not Time's, this life bereaves Of vernal gifts—Time hallows what he leaves, And will for us endear spring-memories to the end.
# Poetical Remains of the Late Mrs Hemans/Owen Glyndwr's War Song

OWEN GLYNDWR'S WAR SONG.
Saw ye the blazing star?* The heavens look down on freedom's war,  And light her torch on high! Bright on the dragon-crest† It tells that glory's wing shall rest,  When warriors meet to die!
Let earth's pale tyrants read despair,  And vengeance in its flame; Hail ye, my bards! the omen fair  Of conquest and of fame, And swell the rushing mountain-air  With songs to Glyndwr's name.
At the dead hour of night, Mark'd ye how each majestic height  Burn'd in its awful beams? Red shone th' eternal snows, And all the land, as bright it rose,  Was full of glorious dreams! Oh! eagles of the battle,* rise!  The hope of Gwynedd wakes!†
It is your banner in the skies,  Through each dark cloud which breaks, And mantles, with triumphal dyes,  Your thousand hills and lakes!
A sound is on the breeze, A murmur, as of swelling seas!  The Saxon on his way! Lo! spear, and shield, and lance, From Deva's waves, with lightning glance,  Reflected to the day! But who the torrent-wave compels  A conqueror's chain to bear? Let those who wake the soul that dwells  On our free winds, beware! The greenest and the loveliest dells, May be the lion's lair!
Of us they told, the seers And monarch-bards of elder years,  Who walk'd on earth, as pow'rs!
And in their burning strains, A spell of might and mystery reigns,  To guard our mountain-towers! —In Snowdon's caves a prophet lay,*  Before his gifted sight, The march of ages pass'd away,  With hero-footsteps bright, But proudest in that long array,  Was Glyndwr's path of light!
* ↑ * The year 1402 was ushered in with a comet or blazing star, which the bards interpreted as an omen favourable to the cause of Glyndwr. It served to infuse spirit into the minds of a superstitious people, the first success of their chieftain confirmed this belief, and gave new vigour to their actions.—Vide Pennant.
* ↑ †Owen Glyndwr styled himself the Dragon; a name he assumed in imitation of Uther, whose victories over the Saxons were foretold by the appearances of a star with a dragon beneath, which Uther used as his badge; and on that account it became a favourite one with the Welsh.—Pennant.
* ↑ *"Bring the horn to Tudwrou the Eagle of Battles."—Vide The Hirlas Horn, a poem by Owain Cyveiliog. The eagle is a very favourite image with the ancient Welsh poets.
* ↑ †Gwynedd (pronounced Gwyneth,) North Wales.
* ↑ *Merlin, or Merddin Emrys, is said to have composed his prophecies on the future lot of the Britons, amongst the mountains of Snowdon. Many of these, and other ancient prophecies, were applied by Glyndwr to his own cause, and assisted him greatly in animating the spirit of his followers.
# Poetical Remains of the Late Mrs Hemans/Prince Madoc's Farewell

PRINCE MADOC'S FAREWELL.
Why lingers my gaze where the last hues of day,  On the hills of my country in loveliness sleep? Too fair is the sight for a wanderer, whose way  Lies far o'er the measureless worlds of the deep! Fall, shadows of twilight! and veil the green shore, That the heart of the mighty may waver no more!
Why rise on my thoughts, ye free songs of the land,  Where the harp's lofty soul on each wild wind is borne? Be hush'd, be forgotten! for ne'er shall the hand  Of minstrel with melody greet my return. —No! no!—let your echoes still float on the breeze, And my heart shall be strong for the conquest of seas!
'Tis not for the land of my sires to give birth  Unto bosoms that shrink, when their trial is nigh; Away! we will bear over ocean and earth  A name and a spirit that never shall die. My coarse to the winds, to the stars I resign, But my soul's quenchless fire, oh! my country! is thine.
# Poetical Remains of the Late Mrs Hemans/Psyche borne by Zephyrs to the Island of Pleasure

PSYCHE BORNE BY ZEPHYRS
TO THE
ISLAND OF PLEASURE.
Written for a Picture.
Fearfully and mournfully  Thou bidd'st the earth farewell, And yet thou'rt passing, loveliest one!  In a brighter land to dwell.
 Ascend, ascend rejoicing!  The sunshine of that shore Around thee, as a glorious robe,  Shall stream for evermore.
The breezy music wandering  There through the Elysian sky, Hath no deep tone that seems to float  From a happier time gone by:
 And there the day's last crimson  Gives no sad memories birth; No thought of dead or distant friends,  Or partings—as on earth.
 Yet fearfully and mournfully  Thou bidd'st that earth farewell, Although thou'rt passing, loveliest one,  In a brighter land to dwell.
 A land where all is deathless—  The sunny wave's repose, The wood, with its rich melodies,  The summer and the rose.
A land that sees no parting,  That hears no sound of sighs, That waits thee with immortal air—  Lift, lift those anxious eyes!
 Oh! how like thee, thou trembler,  Man's spirit fondly clings, With timid love, to this, its world  Of old familiar things!
 We pant, we thirst for fountains  That gush not here below; On, on we toil, allured by dreams  Of the living water's flow:
 We pine for kindred natures,  To mingle with our own; For communings more full and high  Than aught by mortal known:
We strive with vain aspirings  Against our bounds in vain; Yet summoned to be free at last,  We shrink—and clasp our chain!
 And fearfully and mournfully  We bid the earth farewell, Though passing from its mists, like thee,  In a brighter world to dwell.
# Poetical Remains of the Late Mrs Hemans/Records of the Spring of 1834

RECORDS OF THE SPRING OF 1834.
These sonnets, written in the months of April, May, and June, were intended, together with the Records of the autumn of 1834, to form a continuation of the series, entitled "Sonnets Devotional and Memorial," which appeared in the Author's last published volume, "Scenes and Hymns of Life."
# Poetical Remains of the Late Mrs Hemans/Passing Away

PASSING AWAY.
"Passing away" is written on the world, and all the world contains.
It is written on the rose  In its glory's full array— Read what those buds disclose— "Passing away."
It is written on the skies  Of the soft blue summer day; It is traced in sunset's dyes— "Passing away."
It is written on the trees,  As their young leaves glistening play, And on brighter things than these— "Passing away."
It is written on the brow  Where the spirit's ardent ray Lives, burns, and triumphs now— "Passing away."
It is written on the heart—  Alas! that there decay
Should claim from love a part— "Passing away."
Friends! friends!—oh! shall we meet  In a land of purer day, Where lovely things and sweet Pass not away?
Shall we know each other's eyes  And the thoughts that in them lay, When we mingled sympathies Passing away?
Oh! if this may be so,  Speed, speed, thou closing day! How blest, from earth's vain show To pass away?
July 23, 1827.
# Poems (Eckley)/Sepulchral Monument

(BY MISS HOSMER) In the Church of St. Andréa delle Frate, Rome.
# Poems (Eckley)/Paraphrases on Heine

PARAPHRASES ON HEINE.
# Poems (Katz)

POEMS
BY
ELIZABETH KATZ
The Knickerbocker Press
New York
Copyright, 1909
BY
ELIZABETH KATZ
These Verses are Lovingly Dedicated to My Friend
BERTA PAISLEY MEBANE
* The lily
* The call
* My rose
* Spring
* To Alice McC. S. White
* God is all in all
* Safety
* Posing
* "Mammy's" boy
* I laugh, I pray, I sing, I dance
* On violets brought me by my father
* To Greensboro—North Carolina
* The ocean
* Patmos
* If I associate with kings
* Refreshment
* To Julia Homesley
* The dove
* My son
* From mortal sense made free
* One eternal mind
* Stars
* To Miss Berryman
* Boys
* In a garden fair
* We are bells, in order
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
# Popular Science Monthly/Volume 59/October 1901/Scientific Literature

Layout 4
PHYSICS.
The Proceedings of the Paris Congress of 1900 on Methods of Testing Materials' have just appeared in three large folio volumes. The first article by M. Ricour has for its title 'The Molecular Constitution of Matter' but is largely devoted to the discussion of the laws of attraction and to the properties of the ether of space. This ether he imagines to be a sphere whose radius, though great, may perhaps be ultimately found. The distance of our sun from the center of this sphere of ether he finds to be such that light would require 140,000 years to traverse it. The density of the ether he finds to be such that a mass equal in size to our earth would be equal to about one kilogram. While much of the work rests upon hypotheses, the article of Ricour is interesting as showing how the engineer as well as the physicist finally comes to the ether as the ultimate source of all energy. If the ether is really a limited sphere, as he supposes, the surface of that sphere forms an absolute limit to our knowledge; for should other spheres of ether exist no waves can pass across the empty spaces that separate them from that sphere which contains our universe.
MOSQUITOES AND MALARIA.
Dr. Leland O. Howard, the entomologist to the United States Department of Agriculture, has just given us a little book on 'Mosquitoes' (McClure, Phillips & Co.) that is peculiarly well timed and important. Dr. Howard has studied his subject for many years; primarily, in the past, to devise methods for the local control of an annoying pest; but recently, since the relation of some of the genera to the spread of malarial and other febrile diseases has been established, to ascertain their peculiarities of habit and development.
Public interest in the newspaper and magazine accounts has been so marked that a book like this which gives in concise form and with scientific accuracy just what is known of the relation between disease and insects must be especially useful to correct the misinformation gaining currency among the general public. Dr. Howard gives us in detail the life history of our commonest species; both Culex, which is an annoyance merely, and Anopheles, which is the intermediate host for the organism producing malarial diseases in man. The breeding places of each are discussed and the measures which may be adopted to do away with them. A very complete account is given of the experiments which link the Stegomyia fasciata with yellow fever, and a brief statement shows the relation between Culex ciliaris and Filariasis. A chapter on classification shows fairly well what is known of our American species and gives some indication of what yet remains to be learned.
# Popular Science Monthly/Volume 49/June 1896/Minor Paragraphs

Layout 4
Anianus Jedlik died on the 12th of last December, at the cloister of the Benedictine order, in Gyor. He belonged to the old order of natural philosophers (he was born in 1800) who lacked that important portion of the latter-day physicists equipment, a knowledge of higher mathematics. Some of his more important treatises were under the following titles: The Deflection of Beams (1845); The Application of the Electro-magnet in Electro-dynamic Rotations (1856); A Modification of Grove and Bunsen's Battery (1857); The Magneto-motor (1857); Concatenation of Leyden Jars (1863); Electromagnetic Undulation Machine (1868).
M. Abel Hovelacque, one of the most industrious and successful of the younger French students of anthropology, died in Paris, on the 22d of February, aged fifty-two years. His effective scientific career began in 1867, when, at the age of twenty-three years, he founded, with Chavée, the Revue linguistique, the first journal in France specially devoted to linguistics; joined the Anthropological Society, and began the publication of articles in various periodicals. These articles, largely relating to linguistic and cranial investigations, were followed by books on Our Ancestor; The Beginnings of Mankind; a Grammar of the Zend Language; an Elementary Linguistics; Languages, Races, and Nationalities; Observations on Herodotus and the Persians; The South Slavs; Linguistics; The Avesta, Zoroaster, and Mazdeism; and a lecture on the Evolution of Languages. On the foundation, by Broca, of the École d'Anthropologie, in 1876, Hovelacque was made Professor of Linguistic Ethnology. In 1890 he was made president of the school and chief director of the Revue mensuelle de l'École d'Anthropologie. He has also taken part with other anthropologists, whom M. Andrè Lefevre speaks of collectively as a group, in other important enterprises and publications in anthropology.
La Revue Scientifique of December 14th contains an interesting anthropological note. It had been noticed that the wounds made by the arrows of the natives of New Hebrides were quite regularly followed by tetanus, and that the surrounding inhabitants were more afraid of these arrows than of a rifle bullet. A commission at Melbourne experimented on some animals, with these arrow points, in order to discover their poison, but obtained no results. So far as the animals were concerned, the arrows were not poisoned. A somewhat similar commission in 1883, authorized by the Governor of New Caledonia, gave no better results. In ​preparing these arrows, the natives first cover the points with a mucilaginous compound, and then plunge them into the soil of crab burrows in some neighboring swamp. Hence it seems probable that years before our isolation of this virulent germ these savages were utilizing its fatal properties in their warfare.
# Popular Science Monthly/Volume 89/July 1916/Bathing in Your Trunk

From Popular Science Monthly/Volume 89
Bathing in Your Trunk
* Above, the metal combination trunk which serves as a bathtub for the family. It is made of sheet metal, enameled inside and is damp-proof for clothing
* It is light in weight, yet strong enough to withstand the rough handling which baggage men would give it. It makes a clean storage place for laundry.
A COMBINATION trunk. laundry basket and bathtub is the novel invention of Ole C. and Hannah Lee, Ronan, Montana. The trunk is made of sheet metal, enameled inside and outside to adapt it for use as a bathtub or laundry tub, and it is also provided with an outlet at the bottom, to which a hose ran readily be attached to draw out the water. Besides giving very satisfactory service as a bathtub, the trunk is a clean storage place for laundry.
That an article representing an investment of S15.00, the cost of an ordinary trunk, should be useful only as a container for clothing when traveling, struck the inventor as a waste of capital. What is more, the ordinary trunk does not protect the contents from dampness. This led to the invention of a metal combination trunk, which, while comparatively light in weight, is strong enough to stand the rough handling trunks are apt to receive at the hands of baggage men. Although the inventor has made his bath trunk in only one size, it can be made in other sizes.
# Popular Science Monthly/Volume 88/January 1916/Why a Woman Can Outtalk a Man

From Popular Science Monthly/Volume 88
Why a Woman Can Outtalk a Man
A WOMAN can talk longer than a man, and does so because she uses less force by a larger percentage than a man does. A German professor has proved by actual and very delicate measurements that the baritone singer uses far more energy than either. The range of voice differs greatly, so the percentage varies to the same extent, but as a general result it was proved that a tenor uses only from one-seventh to one-sixteenth of the lung power of the baritone or bass. The difference in the force used by the contralto and soprano is very marked, and the contralto who sings in very deep tones uses at least ten times the force of the soprano.
The explanation is so simple that it is surprising that it was not thought of long ago. It has long been known that the tenor or soprano brings the vocal chords together and keeps the edges vibrating only by the emission of air. The bass or contralto leaves the space between the chords wider open, and has to vibrate much more of the membranes.